Weird Things that Happen to Me, Ch. 8235

As you know, if you've picked up on the hints in this blog, I pick up litter along the Seward and Sterling highways in Alaska. 

 That's up to 40 miles on the Seward, and four miles on the Sterling. I walk every foot of it as early in the spring as I can and sometimes I do it twice, filling more than 300 bags every year. Sometimes the bags aren't full. Sometimes they get too heavy for me to carry; sometimes I leave them with a large item that won't fit ion the bag, such as tires, lumber, mud flaps off semis, etc. 

I seem to be obsessed with it and I love the way the highways looking when they are nice and clean.

Today, it was raining.   I was going to stay home but around 2:30, I felt compelled to go clean up litter along the Sterling highway not far from my home.   I do only the first four miles and others take care of it from there.

Prickly roses at Tern Lake

So, in the light rain, off I went, knowing full well I was going to get wet.   It was sprinkling lightly, but the encroaching clouds were ominous.

I had left off Friday at Mile 40 so I went a quarter mile beyond that and parked.   Then, litter bag and grab stick in hand, I started back to the mile post.

Upon reaching it, I crossed the highway and began the route back toward the Mile 41 post and the end of my jaunt.   I didn't reach it.

Instead, shortly after I crossed the highway, and was walking behind a guard rail, I spotted something rectangular in the traffic lane next to me.   I stepped over the rail and picked up a very expensive iPhone!

On its front was a message:

I continued on until I was opposite where I'd parked my truck, where I crossed back over four lanes of highway and got into my truck.   Then, I examined the phone, trying to figure out a way to find the owner's name. 

I had no luck.   By this time, it was pouring down rain so I drove a few miles to where we haul our household trash, where I loaded my personal garbage into the Dumpsters.   We don't have garbage service where I live and have to handle it ourselves.

It was still raining hard so I went home and began a lengthy, and frustrating, attempt to locate the owner.   

I posted messages on several Facebook pages, and got loads of advice from friends.   I attempted to find the owner through the carrier--Verizon.   Blah.   Waste of time.

I tried contacting the Verizon shops in Anchorage.   To even send a message about finding the phone, I needed to sign into an account (which, of course, I don't have) or enter the cell phone's number (which, of course, I don't have).

As I was fooling around with the phone, following some Internet advice, a message popped up.   It was from the owner, trying to locate the phone.

We connected.   And 2-1/2 hours after it was lost, the owner knows where the phone is and will pick it up tomorrow.

SO:   

Why would I feel compelled to clean up litter on a day I knew was raining?

Why would I go to the exact spot where the phone was lost?

Why would I find it shortly after it landed on the pavement on a very busy traffic day?

I always feel weird when these things happen to me.

As Cap, a friend of mine, frequently says, "To feel good, do good."

Yep, I do.

I LOVE it when weird stuff happens.

A Steller's jay fledgling begging an adult for food.