A Summer Begins

As I write this, I am sitting in Rocky Mountain National Park next to a wetland watered by the Colorado River.  Frogs are croaking incessantly, and the pond before me is so rich with insect life that it looks like it is raining.  The environment betrays a rainy spring, and the river flows with a rich green-brown.  It bulges to the very brim of its banks, escaping in many places.  Free though it is now, this water will never reach the ocean.  It will irrigate farmland and power industry; it will be forced deep in the ground to release other valuable resources.  It will water lawns and cities.  It will mull about in reservoirs, navigate the Grand Canyon, and stream through canals.  It will not follow the path it once carved through the American West but conform to the mission we’ve given it, for better or for worse. 

The frogs and bugs must have invited a friend to enjoy breakfast.

Colorado is a headwater state, meaning that all but one of the rivers which leaves its borders begin within it.  Most of the river water is appropriated the moment it hits the earth as snow or rain, and everyone who depends on these Colorado rivers for their food, electricity, green lawns, and recreation is dependent on the amount of moisture which falls from the sky.  The last two Colorado winters have been dry, and the state has suffered the consequences of what I believe is climate change through fire, drought, and poor skiing.  This year, through an unusually wet April and May, snowpack increased from 60 something percent to nearly one hundred percent of average annual rates, and you can hear sighs of relief throughout the state. 

My interest in Colorado’s water began in Mexico, at the mouth of the Colorado River.  This area, the Colorado River Delta, was once a rich wetland and estuary which supported thousands of migratory birds, fish species, and humans.  Today, the area receives less than .1 percent of the river’s water, and it is at only ten percent of its normal size, even as non-profit organizations and the International Boundary and Water Commission work to revive this vibrant and resilient ecosystem.  This environmental issue is strongly connected to human ones: international policy, industry, and regional & local laws.  This summer I will study those regional and local issues, particularly in regards to fracking. 

The Colorado River

Hydraulic fracturing (fracking) is a process which forces a mixture of water, sand, and chemicals into the ground in order to release natural gas or oil.  Today in Colorado it is a particularly hot topic.  One Colorado city, Longmont, recently banned fracking within the city and has received a lawsuit from the state for their efforts.  The governor has publicly debated fracking and recently drank a glass of fracking fluid to prove it isn’t harmful to humans.  Industry is touting our lessened dependence on foreign oil and the prevalence of natural gas.  People living near fracking sites have been able to light water from their taps on fire.  Environmentalists are shaking their heads in disbelief. 

I am spending the summer studying fracking, its relationship to water, and individual perceptions of water in Colorado.  I think societal structures which allow large industry the rights to use water are fascinating, particularly when that industry poses a threat to communal water availability and quality.  This process is particularly interesting because of the profound connection all life has to water.  Water is not (or should not be) some man-made commodity to be bought and sold at will, but a sacred resource upon which all life depends.  This tension is what I hope to bring to light, and I invite you to join me over the next few months.