The queen of denial

I have been in denial. While others have taken up the fight, suspending their careers, I have rested, waiting for the shadbush in my front yard to signal spring.

No more. I am no anarchist. I believe in the power of good government to protect and to serve. But good government does not forsake nature at the behest of corporations.

The plan to install high-power electric transmission lines along the Upper Delaware, in the aptly designated Wild and Scenic Rivers system, is flawed on many levels.

Along the proposed stretch, significant amounts of clear-cutting would displace an entire ecosystem. The prospect of homes being claimed by eminent domain is a serious threat to my personal ecosystem.

Rivers need a buffer zone of natural filters, including trees and flood plains and banks, in order to fulfill their purpose of renewing life. This buffer, the riparian zone, is the transition between the uplands and the river, and it provides everything from a habitat for river otters to a filter for harmful sediments and pollutants that would otherwise enter the water.

On the simplest level, trees along a river bank provide shade that keeps river temperatures habitable for fish. During floods, the riparian zone absorbs water and slows the velocity of the flood.

In the June flood of ‘06, the water table in my family room rose from zero inches to four feet in 15 minutes, stranding a family pet and automobile, but not my family, who escaped by boat. A faster velocity might have been responsible for a more serious outcome, like the death of a teenager in Livingston Manor who was carried away by the same flood as she tried to escape her family home.

Huge power towers are an aesthetic nightmare to those of us who treasure the beauty of the river corridor, but they are also a health hazard. Human cancer rates soar in areas directly around high-power transmission lines and transformers. Can we be sure that the invertebrates and amphibians that depend on riverbank habitats are more immune than humans to such concentrated power sources?

Clearly, the power-line fight is not just about preserving the beauty of our landscape and the power of our tourism economy.

Nature is brilliant at circumventing mankind’s stupidity, but she is not invincible. This year, the 30th anniversary of Earth Day, also signals a sea change in our understanding of the impact of our civilization on our host planet. The liberal “myth” of global warming is becoming reality.

John Muir, the naturalist, once wisely cautioned, “When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”

Take the shad, a lovely silvery specimen with glints of periwinkle and green in its scales. It is a tasty fish. It is also a busy and productive one, that was once a major part of the economic and cultural life of the Atlantic Coast. George Washington fed his troops at Valley Forge with shad.

Born in rivers in spring, shad migrate in autumn to the ocean and return after several years to spawn and die in their native river. Hearty shad may make the trip several times in a lifetime, traveling as far as 12,000 miles. A female shad releases as many as 600,000 eggs in one season.

The Industrial Revolution was not easy on the shad. An increase in pollution, dam-building and high-tech harvesting methods saw a rapid decline in shad harvests.

Slowly, people took notice and, prompted by environmentalists, states removed dams, installed fish passage systems and improved water quality. The shad population is rebounding.

Not far from my shadbush on the Delaware, an eagle family is growing. The mother (I presume) sits on eggs while the father goes fishing. I can sit in my living room and watch the daily drama unfold. Mindful not to disturb my neighbor species, I know my presence has an impact on their quality of life.

When the power companies come to take our homes and clear cut for power lines, we will be here, prepared to defend our habitat. Before that time we all need to get involved, get educated and get ready.

- Cass Collins