The Sweeper

A mechanical growl loud breaks the morning silence from a block away.

I┬áscan ahead and to the left, across the street. There it is – a large white box trotting around the theater parking lot after a busy night. Whirring and vacuuming as it goes the private street sweeper gobbles cups, paper and plastic debris from the paved area between the large, flashy theater and the row of shops across the width of a small block.

Intent on exercise I continue my route. I meet another sweeper moving along from one trash can to another, combining contents into his larger wheeled container. He lowers the catcher in his left hand, deftly moves the broom with his right and sweeps the stray bit off the walk.

Old and new. Manual and mechanical. They work in tandem across four busy lanes of morning traffic.