Last week’s column, in which I discussed roadside litter such as disposable masks, evoked a number of responses from readers who shared in my disgust.

I have always loved to hunt. It started way back when I was about 7 years old, when my dad allowed me to tag along with him and his longtime friend and hunting buddy, Joe. They both worked for the same printing company in the building that I described helping to clean out in a former tale after it was sold and moved.