Another View: It is Time to Connect the
Dots
I often imagine what the early
inhabitants of Florida saw as they fished in the rivers, hunted in the
forests and lived on the prairies. Breathtaking beauty surrounds us in
the panhandle, on both coasts and in the central rolling hills in
Florida. Unfortunately, wherever perfection exists, man believes
perfection can be perfected. And nowhere is this practice more evident
than in the sunshine state.
Yet when we destroy one thing in an
ecosystem, we are not just destroying a part, we are working on the
erosion of the whole.
When will we learn we cannot take away
from nature and hope what we introduce will be better? And when will
we understand that our actions are connected to the larger world now
and in the future?
The wholesale destruction of mangroves
for most of the 20th century should have taught us
something. Without the mangroves, the entire southern coastal zone
would be in danger of disappearing. Studies conducted by the Florida
Marine Research Institute show that in the Tampa Bay area alone, 44
percent of the coastal wetlands acreage — including salt marshes and
mangrove forests — have been destroyed over the last 100 years.
What does this have to do with the
ecosystem in which the mangrove lives? Plenty. The mangrove roots trap
organic material and serve as surfaces for other marine organisms to
attach and thrive. The forests themselves serve as the home base for
marine life, and animals shelter themselves from the elements within
the protective cover of the mangrove arms. The salt marshes serve as
the lifeblood to this tree that welcomes the salty environment.
Efforts to protect some of the last of
rural Florida include the government buying lands at the federal,
state and local levels. However, places such as St. George Island in
Apalachicola Bay, with its nine-mile stretch of state park, cannot
fight the development that is creeping up on the entrance to the park.
And even with the purchase of these lands for public use, ribbons of
asphalt roads and ropes of boardwalks make an impact upon the pristine
nature of the land. But they are necessary evils if we are to enjoy
the rawness of nature without doing more destruction, such as
destroying the sea oat from its protective berth upon the dunes.
Those little wisps of stalks sitting
upon the sand shoot deep roots into the dunes helping to keep the sand
in place and thus preventing erosion. Without their presence, the
coastline would begin disappearing back into the sea at an alarming
rate.
And right here in the middle of the
state the connectivity to all that happens in every part of Florida is
seen in the appearance of pollution in our rivers and springs which
lead directly into the Floridan aquifer and our drinking water.
Ichetucknee Springs, a long time local
favorite for tubing and canoeing, appears to be one of the last
pristine locations left in north Florida. Floating down the
fast-flowing river past the great blue herons feeding on the banks,
the turtles sunning on the rocks and the live oaks hanging low over
the river, it is impossible to imagine that trouble lurks all around.
Yet recent studies from Florida
Department of Environmental Protection and the U.S. Geological Survey
are showing that pollution from Lake City’s wastewater spray field
is making its way down into the underground water system to the
headspring of the Ichetucknee nearly fifteen miles away. DEET traces
have also been found in these waters.
Studies have shown that an underwater
highway beginning at Alligator Lake in Lake City connects to the
headspring of the Ichetucknee, a completely spring-made river. The
Ichetucknee River eventually flows into the Santa Fe River and the
Santa Fe, several miles later, reaches the Suwannee River, which then
flows into the Gulf of Mexico.
If we can make the connection from Lake
City to the Gulf of Mexico, is it such a giant leap to connect the
dots between the Keys, the Everglades, Tampa Bay, Miami and the rest
of the state and beyond?
We can no longer live in oblivious
ignorance regarding the world around us. If we continue on this same
path, very little will matter because there will be no water to drink
and no food to eat that is not contaminated with our
irresponsibility.§
Patricia Camburn Behnke is a journalist
and Editor-in-Chief at Tower Publications. Her third novel, Tortoise
Stew, was published in March of 2006 and takes a poke at
developers and politicians in north Florida.
