About once a month the overfill from the big gray can with the black circulatory arrows scatters onto the concrete-speckled asphalt. A bit later, brown glass and green glass are separated from the clear–milk gallon plastic and empty liter bottles are thrown into different bins, aluminum is smashed into tiny wheels, and then lots and lots of these (See tri-pix below).

Watching the old homeless woman as she methodically organizes her cache I remember all the other times I have dropped off glass, cans, and plastic. How many other homeless people did I not see?