Portraits of Your Vandalism

July 4th aftermath.

Ocean City NJ; July 7, 2023.

My main focus with photography has always been nature, but there is a constant in every journey I take to capture any photo: Trash.

I want to highlight July 7, 2023, just after the holiday. I made my way over to the north end of Ocean City around 6 a.m. for sunrise. Some call it The Gardens. My iPhone map deems it Peck Beach. For me, i’ve always called it the North End. It’s been my home beach for nearly 10 years.

For context, it’s a bayside beach with hilly dunes, vegetation, and flat shelly areas sprawled throughout. Along with being a popular destination for beachgoers, it serves as critical nesting habitat for endangered shorebirds. As a result, this beach is deemed a “protected zone.” For this reason, sections of the beach are fenced off by New Jersey Fish & Wildlife (NJFW) every summer for the birds to utilize as nesting habitat. There is signage posted around the nesting habitat explaining this: “No dogs, no vehicles, no foot entry” and “Entering area is a violation of state and federal law.” At the time, I had been employed by the Wetlands Institute doing conservation work for the very birds that utilize these types of beaches: piping plover, black skimmer, American oystercatcher and common terns, so I was aware of how important these fenced off areas can be, and even more so now working as a wildlife technician for NJFW.

I arrive just as the sun starts to rise and walk the path that cuts through the dunes, passes the fenced off nesting habitat, and leads out to the shoreline. It’s perfectly calm and quiet. The morning light makes me feel like I’m in a dream. It’s magic. The air is still. I’m the only one there. I look around and notice a couple crushed beer cans and plastic cups on the beach, nothing out of the ordinary of what I normally encounter here in the summer months. I continue walking and find remnants of a bonfire, not far from the designated shorebird nesting habitat. I see multiple sets of footprints and crushed beer cans scattered within the fencing. I realized that what I was seeing was the aftermath of the July 4th holiday. I follow the curve of the dunes to the front beach and see that the wooden “No Dogs” sign has been knocked over, cracked down the middle, and spray painted over. This sign is typically installed during breeding season for the endangered shorebirds. The presence of dogs, even if leashed or well-behaved, can prevent the adult birds and their chicks from getting enough food, as dogs scare them away from the shoreline where they typically forage. There are several beer cans and glass bottles scattered around the fallen sign. I thought that would be the worst of it. I peer closer into the dunes and surrounding area. I see more cans, bottles, clothing and beach towels scattered around. I make no exaggeration when I say that everywhere I look, there is trash. I walk under the toll bridge. There are cans strewn around the abutment that upholds it. A deflated pool floaty. A pair of sneakers. More bonfire remnants. I continue. I find multiple piles of trash, completely left out in the open. About 15-20 cans in each pile. I didn’t know what to make of this. I couldn’t comprehend it. How could anyone knowingly vandalize such a beautiful place? How and why are people so disconnected from nature that they don’t see the harm in their actions? Why is celebrating our country’s freedom synonymous with trashing the very land that it’s built on? I had been picking up trash on this beach for several years, but never encountered anything like this before. I keep walking. And then, the real kicker: A pile of 70 cans and bottles, not far from the incoming high tide that would soon wash it out into the bay. The deliberateness of this was profound to me. How could someone leave this much behind? And not think twice? And not feel guilty?

I decided to clean up. There was no way I could enjoy my day off at my favorite place knowing that it was trashed. I walked back to my car, put on gloves, and grabbed the box of trash bags that I keep in the center console. From 6:30 in the morning to nearly 12 noon, I scoured the beach and nooks and crannies of the dunes to pick up every single piece of garbage. It was an 85 degree, densely humid day. Beach goers began to trickle in as I trudged along with bags full of trash. I took a break, dipped into the bay, and came back to the spot where I had 3 bags already full to the brim with garbage. The more I walked, the more I found. 4 trash bags full. 5 trash bags. 6 trash bags. 7 trash bags.

I brought each bag to a more secluded spot next to the toll bridge, towards the back of the beach. Initially, I didn’t want to bother anyone with what I wanted to do: Photograph and document everything that I had collected. I dumped out each bag, one by one, the majority of which were full of bottles and cans. It was not a quiet endeavor. I worried that I was going to get some funky looks from people who were within earshot of me, but then I thought…Well, let them be uncomfortable. It’s not comfortable for me to see a place I love get trashed year after year…

The total amount of bottles, cans, cups, pieces of clothing, and various plastic garbage totaled 482.

I am not looking for praise for cleaning up the beach. Anyone can pick up trash, if physically able. I’m sharing this because I want people to be aware of what’s happening in their own backyard. When the 4th is synonymous with destroying property and blatantly littering, what’s there to celebrate, really? What’s patriotic about that?

I don’t have the answers for getting this behavior to stop, but I hope this reaches the right people. If you feel inclined, please share the link to my website.