Getting used to using less and better – a viable solution

KAMLOOPS — I saw the dry yellow pastures and lawns as soon as we got close to the ferry terminal. As if nothing but rain was to bring any water to the parched land. This was Salt Spring Island, but the other islands we passed by during our ferry ride were the same. Dry grass everywhere.

At the same time, the island has farm stands everywhere and a bustling farmer’s market every Saturday. Clearly, water is being used, but judiciously. A lady we chatted with confirmed that lawns are not watered in the summer. Why waste the water, she said? There is only that much of it on the island. On some of our hikes we came across some dried seasonal creeks and some thin year-round ones that would gather in pools before continuing their journey. It is those pools, the hidden eyes of the forest, that reveal the immeasurable value of water.

Life of all kinds thrives in and around the creeks and pools, while the rest of the forest waits, some areas more parched than others due to prolonged sun exposure, for the rains to come and the typical coastal dampness, now overcome by summer heat.

Of course, it made me think of the lawns back in Kamloops, many of which are green and lush, despite the searing hot (and persistent) temperatures. Can we maybe get used to brown lawns during the summer, while saving the water for what is actually needed, such as gardens?

Can we perhaps get used to seeing more lawns converted to gardens while at it too? That way, water becomes food and it becomes learning. It becomes life. For as long as we choose to squander this finite and vital resource, we are eons away from achieving the pastoral harmony green lush lawns try to convey.

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I also and quite often witness the watering of sidewalks alongside lawns often as we take the dog on late evening walks. There is something very tragic about that. The illusion of plenitude can lull us into a false sense of security, but the slope becomes more slippery – no pun intended – with each day we fail to see how fortunate we are for having clean, running water as we turn on the tap.

The Semiahmoo First Nations community near White Rock will see a 15-year-old boil water advisory come to an end, as they will be connected to the City of Surrey supply for potable water and sewer services in the spring of 2019. Can you picture that for a second? Boiling every glass of water; not for a day, or a week, but for years.

Hence my question: while we have it so good, could we get used to using less water, and using for what we need such as growing our food, aside from daily water needs we all have. And stretch it from there: could we get used to using less of our resources by making changes that do not require enormous effort but simply changing things a bit. For example: laundry drying on lines rather than using dryers (on hot days, the drying time is less than an hour.) Another one: solar panels on buildings around Kamloops, official ones to start with?

Could we get used to having a total plastic bag ban and manage without, which seems hard while the bags are handy, but it can be done – many other communities are cities are living proof – and in the end the overall gain will be many degrees bigger than the frustration some might feel as we transition.

Could we get used to having our food stores run out of certain items by midday, say bread for example, but not only that, rather than having to throw it out by the end of the day or week? Could we get used to smaller portions, eating less meat, and moving more? Could we get used to seasonal produce and actually missing fruit and veggies that are out of reach for certain periods of the year? Could we encourage our farmer’s market and local businesses so that we would depend on them for our needs primarily?

I think we could. Becoming aware of the wealth we bask in but so often end up wasting is no less of a civic duty than being able to sing the anthem and be willing to stand for our country.

As we bid goodbye to Salt Spring Island, its mellow dry pastures, and the majestic huge trees we found on our hikes, I perused the latest news. Some was disheartening. The recent discovery of clearcut logging in an area that is not a park yet is completely surrounded by one, the ‘Donut Hole’ in Manning Park (and Skagit,) came as ugly reminder that we have some way to go. Approved by the current government, the clearcuts are said to leave a lot of waste behind, given that it is mostly skinny high-elevation trees which would otherwise be great habitat for grizzly bears, according to the Wilderness Committee.

I thought of the gigantic tress we came across on the coast. I have no illusions that the coastal trees are forever safe. Though more valuable standing then being felled and likely exported, them and other countless like them are not immune to clearcutting danger unless we make it so. Could we get used to seeing our forests get old once again, making sure that selective logging rather than clearcutting becomes the norm? For the sake of life as we know it and want to see it continue, and for the sake of our children, it is high time we say ‘yes’. To this and all of the above, and so much more.