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insidious monster is devouring the natural beauty that makes
San Diego special. Evidence of its violence is visible in backyard
canyons and at construction sites, where giant earth movers make
way for homes, office parks and roadways. Its serpentine, braided
tracks are conspicuous in wet earth gouged from gullied hillsides.
While we rail against wet weather, this monster
rampages in the rain. It prefers disturbed slopes, although any
water overflow will satisfy its craving to carve landscape. Without
protection from roots of trees and shrubs and layers of leaves,
the beast's rivulets turn topsoil into mud - suffocating sensitive
wetlands and polluting coastal waterways.
Erosion has its place in the natural world.
Rock, cobbles and gravel cascading from collapsing cliffs give
rivers their meandering character. Rushing water uses boulders
to scour silt, depositing it within streamside vegetation that
armors embankments and provides habitat. Spawning trout make
shallow nests in gravel streambeds. Many species of insects,
vital to sustaining fish and wildlife, depend on rocks (and a
variety of organic debris) for early development. Mineral-rich
floodwaters nourish fertile river valleys, home to unimaginable
numbers of wild creatures - large and small. Beach sand is the
final product of landslides washed to the seashore.
Humans use rivers and their materials far
differently. Dams that serve our insatiable thirst deprive fish
and wildlife their share of water, while denying beaches needed
sand grains that garner tourist dollars and protect seaside homes
from storm-driven surf. But earthen material, used to make cement,
brick and mortar, is essential in building cities and roads that
keep us connected. Sand and gravel mining (along with water extraction)
may feed economic growth, but altering the geomorphology of rivers
and estuaries starves plant and animal communities - diverse
ecosystems which biologically treat organic pollutants, toxic
bacteria and petrochemical contaminants.
Soils scientists believe the Earth's fertility
is being eroded so fast that in 50 more years what's left won't
be able to grow enough food for the hungry billions being added
to the planet. (By then, perhaps, genetically modified crops
won't need traditional farming methods; oil mined from Alaska's
Arctic Refuge will make synthetic fertilizer for plants grown
in reclaimed waste water.)
And don't feel sorry for native fish and
wildlife. That's what zoos and animal parks are for. Our friend,
the internet, will help us share digitized photos reminiscent
of nature treks we enjoyed in the 20th century.
Instead, be concerned about tax dollars diverted
from public works and social services to pay for repeated violation
of laws intended to protect coastal environments, human health
and the beneficial use of water resources.
It's in our best interests to protect water
quality; there's a limit to what can be done to make Colorado
River water drinkable. Moreover, the dollar drain for sports-related
faux pas pale in comparison to the mega-millions in fines
being levied for violating state and federal clean water legislation.
Stopping the pollution beast in its muddy tracks will take some
doing.
First, let's give City Hall's newly organized
Environmental Services and storm water personnel our cooperation.
Watch what is put into curbside gutters. The stuff that does
a good job on our car, lawn, carpet or swimming pool may be disastrous
downstream. Promptly report illegal dumping, clogged storm drains
and sewage spills. Make an effort to shore up landscaped slopes.
Slow runoff with revetments - leaves, mulch or other materials
that let rainwater replenish the soil, nurturing vegetation that
helps protect air and water quality.
Pollution usually happens without our awareness,
making prevention difficult. But as trash piles grow higher,
bacteria and viruses grow deadlier and fish and wildlife stop
growing, we'll find that costs for not conserving natural resources
grow wildly. (As are gas and electric bills.)
Combating erosion's muddy ways means taking
personal initiative to protect San Diego's quality of life. That's
right, we have to become stewards of the land, guardians of the
environment that belongs to all of us. Whenever a weedy marsh
is traded for resort recreation or a creek is buried for commercial
development, natural wetland bio-filtration that purifies polluted
runoff is lost forever.
The Nature School is working to help improve
water quality with public-minded volunteers, known as "Clean
Water Ambassadors." Students and adult leaders, sporting
embroidered shirts and caps and riding bicycles, will patrol
their communities to build awareness of pollution's hazards.
Trained in ecology and erosion control technology, Clean Water
Ambassadors reach out to neighbors, business operators and construction
crews with helpful alternatives that serve environmental justice
and enhance community quality of life.
Obeying the Clean Water Act has long-range
benefit. By preventing eroded soil from polluting neighborhood
canyons, creeks and wetlands we help nature protect human health
and provide public recreation. Besides, what's good for water
quality is good for San Diego's economy, especially our budget
at City Hall.
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