Without Walls

As we stared out over this magnificent vista in Sequoia National Park, all I could think was how idyllic the scene looked. It seemed almost unreal in its majesty. I thought it represented what the pioneers must have dreamed of when they heard of the wonders of the “untamed” parts of America: forested, mountainous, and wild.

My initial notion of some idealized and unpolluted space was immediately altered when Lucy, the park ranger, told us that what looked like picturesque mist in the valley was actually pollution from San Francisco. I immediately felt a sense of loss; my idea of this pure and untouched part of the world was gone. Not only was it staggering to think of the activity of far away San Francisco impacting this place, it made me realize that nothing is quite as it seems. Something that I initially thought was beautiful and simple actually turned out to be polluting the valley and was actually the result of a complex chain of events.

Similarly, water issues from afar seemed simple. Everyone needs it, it was as straightforward as that. Traveling to California and seeing the subject up close made me realize the layers of competing interest that surround this precious resource.

This idea felt like it represented the journey throughout the week. From the capitol building to fish hatcheries to water agencies, there was a nuance to every aspect. Starting with the snow pack that sourced the water to the way it was managed and transported to the conservation of it in urban environments, each step seemed to carry its own complexities and challenges. Fulfilling everyone’s expectations and needs ended up being a precarious balancing act between urban populations and the ubiquitous agriculture industry that not only feed California, but the entire nation as well.

One could become discouraged with all of the inherent intricacies of distributing water, especially in a drought situation. It was hard sometimes to imagine the Human Right to Water being realized for all the people of California, much less the world.

Another voice cut through the discouragement though. That voice was Ms. Bettina Birch, whose farm we stayed at during our journey. While we were staying at her farm and helping out in her garden, she expressed how happy she was to host us, because she hoped to impart her belief that we are all the stewards of this beautiful land we now occupy; it is our responsibility and obligation to protect and conserve it. Her words filled me with an urgency that I couldn’t describe. No matter how difficult or complicated it may seem, it is up to all of us to do our part, and this trip was a first step on the path to stewardship.