Removing Tons of Litter from Lake Geneva on Global Clean Up Day

From a childhood growing up in a river town, to summers spent on a Wisconsin lake, to weekends of young adulthood walking Normand beaches to raising a family in a Switzerland with a view of Lake Geneva, no matter where I have lived, water has been my solace bringing comfort, inspiration and peace.

When you are lucky enough to grow up near water you learn to never take it for granted. We were raised with an appreciation of our lakes, rivers and seas. Even as kids we walked around Summit Lake picking up discarded beer cans to take to the local dump.

Now every morning when I see my jaw dropping view of Lake Geneva surrounded by snow capped Mt Blanc, I feel blessed. Lake Geneva, on the north side of Alps nestled between France and Switzerland, is the largest lake on the Rhone River and one of the largest lake in western Europe (It’s northern shore is 95 km (59 mi), the southern shore 72 km (45 mi) in length)

A pearl of the region, Lake Geneva is of indescribable beauty, so for me it is hard to imagine why anyone would carelessly pollute this national treasure.

As part of Global Day of garbage clean up, my husband volunteered to join Aqua Diving’s club in their 28th year of cleaning only a mile long shoreline in Geneva. This year, due to the pandemic, participation was limited to 150 people in each region ,but over 1000 people helped out across the nation.

Wearing masks and gloves volunteers lined the shore of Lake Geneva’s right bank. Divers hauled mesh bags filled with champagne bottles, beer cans, plastic waste and handed them to strong workers like my husband who dragged them up on shore and sorted them into categories of waste.

“How was it?” I asked when he came home six hours later.

“Exhausting,” he said as he collapsed on the couch, “and disgusting”. Divers found discarded bikes, tires, wagons, weapons and even an entire grill. Last year they hauled 1.5 tons; this year we collected twice the amount.”

In the 1980s the lake was too polluted with waste and chemicals to swim in, so a French- Swiss transnational effort was implemented. Today water-treatment plants recycle waste water around the lake; now the water is almost too clean because there is not enough nutrients going into the lake for the fish to grow. That hasn’t stopped human littering.

Yet even in Switzerland, a pristine country where citizens value cleanliness, people still discard trash everywhere including into lakes and rivers.

I grew up appreciating our natural resources and water is one of the most precious ones.

How can anyone spoil water that we are so lucky to have access to? I love the taste of water, the feel of water, the sound of water rushing over rocks and ocean tides lapping on the shores. I adore the sight of water reflecting in the shimmering sun and changing colors with the winds.

“Every piece of litter discarded carelessly” Gerald laments “eventually ends up in our rivers, lakes and seas.”

What can you do to tidy up the bodies of water near you?








How to Beat November Doldrums

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a view from our window

I don’t know about you, but I struggle to keep my spirits up in November. The cold, damp, dreary weather reflects my foul mood.  I am surrounded by germs a go-go at the school where I teach. The bacterial infection that I seem to breed within my bone marrow attacks every November leaving my body inflamed with a scratchy throat, stuffy nose, tight chest, achy joints and pounding head.

From my attic window, my bird’s eye view of the countryside reminds me to celebrate each season. In the foreground, spindly naked, tree branches bend low in the north wind. Barren fields line the auburn earth, and white caps dotting silver-colored Lake Geneva send chills down my spine. In the distance, the snow-patched Alps loom like a figment of my imagination. Layers of billowy clouds in various shades of grey roll overhead like waves on a churning sea.

With gratitude on my lips, I focus on the positive to help endure the November blues.

  • Birthdays. My beloved son was born 23 years ago. My treasured niece also shares a November birthday.
  • Basketball. Hoop season begins! I can follow my favorite teams again.
  • Harvest. Though I would have trouble growing dandelions, I grew up in a farm rich community and now live beside vineyards, orchards and fields.  Every year, I marvel at the harvest and admire the men and women who work the fields to fill our tables.

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    the fields in autumn with the Alps in the background

  • Thanksgiving. A table laden with turkey and all its trimmings is always a reminder to be grateful for family, friends, and mother nature’s bounty
  • Walk. I lean into the wind on my way to school feeling blessed for the ability to move my limbs. Each step I take I remember to be grateful to have a job.
  • Family. My husband lovingly shows his support by creating a program to keep track of my schedule when I start a regime of antibiotics and anti-viral again.
  • Voices. Once so rare due to cost, long distance phone calls, now offer a lifesaving link. Occasionally, old friends surprise me, my sisters ring regularly, my Big Kids Skype-in and as reliable as a church service, my parents call every Sunday. Support seeps through the lines in the voices that sustain me.
  • People. The best way to avoid a self-pity party is to focus on someone else. I help edit my senior student’s essay, reassure a distraught parent via email, and mail a sympathy card to a friend to acknowledge the pain of her loss.
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take a walk on the wild side

When your health falters, bad weather hits and the sad, dark days of late autumn bring you down – go for a walk, reach out, connect, engage, and share gratitude.

What keeps you going in November?

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Geneva: Chic City Streets by Foot

Geneva with its river, hills, one-way streets, tramways, bus traffic, bike paths and right turn only lanes, is a nightmare to navigate especially for a directionally handicapped driver like myself. Consequently, I leave the house at 6:30 a.m. with my French chauffeur, aka Gerald, for my 7a.m. chiropractic treatment. After the adjustment, I hoof across town to the podiatrist, for it only seems appropriate to travel to a foot doctor by foot!

strolling the pedestrian bridge over the Rhône

strolling the pedestrian bridge over the Rhône

The last vestiges of winter chill fill the early morning air, so I shove on my gloves and pull up my hoodie. I stride down Rue Voltaire, past the Cornavin Train Station, and down the pedestrian street lined with watch makers, to the foot bridge across the Rhône separating the city into the right and left bank. Then I follow the lakefront on a route paved in gold, where a square foot of property is worth a thousand dollars.

I pass storefronts of the most expensive, prestigious boutiques in the world: Louis Vuitton French luxury leather, Hermes scarves, Cartier, Dior, Chopard and Bucherers leading name jewelers and Gucci, Prada, Giorgio Armani, Dolce and Gabbana – Italian clothes shops. I gaze at the mannequins in designer dresses that may cost more than my annual salary.

american tourists in front of the famous flower clock

american tourists in front of the famous flower clock

Across the street, Lake Geneva shimmers like a diamond too, in the first rays of sun creeping over the Mont Salève, illuminating the city. On the quay, restaurants, cruise boats, souvenir stands await the crowd. Geneva’s trademark 140-meter high water jet and « horloge fleurie » flower clock symbolizing the Swiss watch industry offers a feast for the eyes. Patek Philippe, Geneva’s famous luxury watch manufacturer is strategically placed adjacent to the flower clock, and Mont Blanc, maker of chic accessories, like pens and lighters, is across the street. How can an entire store sell only pens that start at a retail price of $70? This is Geneva!

Along the lakeside promenade, in the lovely Jardin Anglais, pink and white blossoms peek out of thinly leaved trees like children playing hide and seek. Lining the boulevard Platanes, with knobby bare branched tree tops,  appear as gnarled arthritic hands reaching toward the sky in despair.

a steamer goes past lake front bourgeois buildings

a steamer goes past lake front bourgeois buildings

Two uniformed doormen stand guard the entrance to the five star Swisshotel Metropole on the Quais General Guisan, in the heart of Geneva’s financial and shopping district. They are ready to pamper guests every inch of the way from taxi door to curbside. Servers, dressed in black suits and starched white shirts, whistle as they wipe down sidewalk tables that spill out of the eateries preparing for the lunch crowd.

The heavy morning commuter traffic makes crossing streets dangerous, especially when cross walk lights are never synchronized. I perch on the curb in the island between 6 lane thoroughfares waiting for the little man to turn green.

The city springs to life. Seagulls soar overhead and pigeons coo. Street cleaners hose down the sidewalks, builders resurface storefronts, and city workers tear up gutters for repair. After all, Geneva is an old city, dating back over 4000 years to antiquity.

Though I dawdle at every light and gawk at every window display, I arrive an hour early for my next appointment, so I nip into the nearest cafe where I can while away the time people watching. An endless parade of interesting characters enter and exit while I fill my notebook with more stories, but those tales will have to wait until next week. A bientôt!