Claim Jumper

Who am I to look down my nose at the plastic island?
They say it’s as big as Texas. Maybe that was the reference that caused my disdain.

Scarcity - money, time, water, food.

Scarcity of space.

I want to try to walk on the plastic island. I wonder if it would hold my weight?
Is it one layer thick of yogurt cups and soda collars and tennis ball containers? Or is it ready to sustain the weight of a 137 pound woman?
I don’t have the proper equipment to really take a good look at it from the underneath;
So I’ll have to just go for it.

You know when someone is trying to rescue another from the thin ice that has formed on a lake or pond? How they sprawl out; they splay their arms and legs wide to distribute their weight evenly?  That’s how I would approach the plastic island.
That approach could be interpreted as respect. Which is funny because just a while ago I hated that damned island. And now I respect it.
I’ve got no money to buy any land. I don’t think anyone has officially claimed all that space on the plastic island.

No one has officially laid claim to me either.
I think this is the beginning of a mutually respectful relationship.