The moon set blood-red this morning, the sun rose like a gash in the pale flesh of the sky. And I am caught between a rock and guilt trip. This morning, as I sip tea imported from Asia by a British company, now owned by an international distributor, I can barely see across Coyote Valley. My view is not blocked by huge cement buildings or freeways and smog, but by the smoke from the myriad fires burning our wild forests to the ground. Despite temperatures in the 70”s, I am running my air-conditioning unit to filter and freshen the stagnant air in my home, closed against the pungent, acrid smoke settling all around us.
The irony is that I believe firmly that running the air conditioner is probably contributing to the climatic conditions that are giving rise to the fires burning out of control. In fact, everything I have done this morning so far is not only not helping, but actually contributing to the fires the valiant and courageous men and women out there have been fighting for days and nights.
The water for my tea was pumped from wells, which by industry accounts have dropped from a mere 50-60 feet to 300-400 feet and dropping. The dearth of rain last winter makes the matter worse as our reservoirs and rivers continue to recede and diminish. The water I used has been filtered and pumped at some expense and use of energy to my inefficient home on the hill, which of course has no water supplies of its own.
I would have jumped at the opportunity to collect my rainwater in barrels, or even better, an in-ground cistern, but for building codes prohibiting these simplest of technologies due to ?health concerns”. The heat to boil the water was from electricity generated by the burning of carbon fuels or the damming of rivers or the use of nuclear fission. In another time I might have collected a bit of firewood to start a small fire, but that seems preposterous under today”s conditions.
Honey to sweeten was collected from the state”s diminishing bee population at double the price I paid a year ago; non-dairy chemical soup in lieu of milk to which I have become allergic, due to years of chemical inundations. And the cup will be washed by a machine, and therefore, must be washed with a phosphorous-laden detergent that will more easily dissolve and rinse away under those conditions. I could use a bio-degradable detergent, but, quite frankly, they don”t work as well and cost twice as much. If my water was allowed to be drained into my yard to irrigate my little vegetable garden, it would make sense, but codes prevent such measures.
Calls on my cell phone to work, and checking in on my emails, both using questionably safe technologies, but whose process of recycling will endanger the health and well-being of a newly risen third-world slave labor force in, once again, Asia.
And I consider myself to be an environmentalist. In fact, I work for a solar company seeking to reduce our use of carbon fuels for the simple and even necessary aspects of modern living? like making a cup of tea to watch the sunrise.
We must do more than buy simple fixes and turn off light bulbs. We must begin to rethink the very nature of our civilization, the ways in which we live our lives, the designs of not only our cars, but our cities and neighborhoods. My child joins me now on the couch, and asks the usual, “What are you doing, Momma?” We share a cup of tea and consider the rest of our day. What can we do today, I wonder, to move us toward solutions. What will her sunrises look like?
We as a citizenry must become far more proactive not only in individual conservation, and at this point, preservation and mitigation, measures. We must act in a united and potent way to pressure our local, state and national leaders to change the laws and codes that limit our abilities to live more simply, less extravagantly, and far more sustainably. Codes prohibiting rain-water collection, on-site water treatment and recycling do more harm than good.
Building codes which make the installation of solar power systems in the first stages of building prohibitively red-tape laden and expensive, and virtually force individuals building their own homes to wait months before they can install a system retroactively are counter-productive, environmentally unsound, and stifle sustainable development. No development should move forward from this point on without planning and implementation of strident sustainablilty measures.
This morning I will put some freshly collected madrone bark and toyon berries in a large glass jar full of water in the sun. Tomorrow I will have cold local tea. It”s a start. We have to start. After all, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
Celeste Worden
Hidden Valley Lake
