If jellyfish sounds like it might be some kind of an ethnic or racial slur, it's not one. Or not one I've ever heard of. But it is about a kind of discomfort--the discomfort of litter (and the diversity).
What some of you might not know is that I have a tradition of picking up litter while I walk around the town where I live. I've been doing this for years, and in many ways, it's endlessly fascinating. The detritus varies by season (candy wrappers around Halloween; firecrackers around July 4th; and so on). The experiences are always new (an encounter with a squirrel recently, as we both went for a plastic bottle; finding a large ring of keys in the snow and figuring out what to do with them; finding a full, frozen can of beer and trying to decide how to dispose of that). Other dilemmas surround whether I pick things up when other people are around (that is, whether I want to be caught in the act), how far out of my way I'll go to pick something up and where I'll discard it if I'm not carrying a trash bag that day.
A couple new observations have come to me lately. First, that probably 98% of the litter relates to things humans put in their mouths--cigarettes, drinks of all kinds, snacks of all kinds, fast food of all kinds, gum--or to be more precise, the packaging related to these mouth-filling things. A huge category of items I find are made of plastic or cellophane, and lying there on the ground, they remind me of jellyfish, or what I remember of jellyfish from the days when my family used to go to Miami Beach and walk along the shore. The discarded items I find have that same collapsed, discarded, transparent, and slightly shiny look that jellyfish do.
So, lately I've engaged in the fantasy that I live on some kind of inland sea bed. Yes, true. I have been thinking about that. Notice the oceanic life as you go on your way.