“Carry in and carry out.”

That’s been the Department of Environmental Management’s approach to keeping state parks free of litter for some time now. The state doesn’t provide trash receptacles and, obviously, as a result, doesn’t bear the cost of maintaining them. It’s up to park visitors to keep the place clean, to care for the place.

The practice has been “extremely successful,” reports DEM’s Lisa Primiano in a story appearing in today’s paper.

But while that may be happening at other parks, it’s not the case at Rocky Point.

Ever since the city opened 41 shoreline acres, the park has been a magnet for trash. Bottles, cans, cups, even picnic leftovers and even unwanted garments are pushed back into the bushes and just dropped. This is hardly new. It’s been happening for as long as people have been coming to Rocky Point. In fact, in a perverse sense, it’s part of what connects us to Rocky Point, whether it’s finding a thick glass root beer bottle from the 1800s in the shallows of the dock, a buffalo nickel in the grass or a baseball – could it be the one Babe Ruth hit? – buried in the dirt.

We’re not suggesting a policy of littering to provide future generations with “treasures” to discover or beach glass to collect.

Regardless of its past as a venue where tens of thousands came together in a single day to be near the water and to have fun – and surely keeping the place clean was not foremost in their minds – the Rocky Point of today is a different place.

The park hasn’t lost its draw, as witnessed by the more than 5,000 who turned out for the movie nights hosted by the Central Rhode Island Chamber of Commerce. People love Rocky Point for its beauty and for its memories.

Something has also changed since the prow of the shore dinner hall and remnants of rides have been erased from the landscape. There’s a beauty to the park that wasn’t there before. It’s fun to discover and gives reason to question what the future should hold. Should there be vehicular access to the park, making it more accessible to the handicapped? Should there be some type of development that could generate income while offering, let’s say, clamcakes and chowder? Should concerts return to the park?

Those questions and others will be explored as the state develops a park master plan. We look forward to watching that plan evolve and recording the public’s reaction.

But already, as evidenced by area residents who have taken to picking up litter at the park and the comments of park visitors, there’s a growing sense of park ownership. This is exciting, for this is “our” park, and once people feel that way about it, they’re going to want to keep it clean.