but this story’s strand ends and begins 20 years later and 1,100 miles away, on the last legs of a sun-filled melty kind of january day along otter creek. driving down from middlebury, vermont, swamp road carries you downhill with the orange orb of the sun in your rearview mirror as you descend into the kingdom of the swamp. the thin ribbon of road suddenly seems tenuous among an endless ice that maroons even the mighty bare trees, consuming the land and leaving behind bubbles and pools that reflect the pink of puffy clouds sailing overhead. from the vast cedar forests in the heart of the swamp to the north comes a gloomy wind that rattles along a lone leaf, interrupted only by a moo from a far-off pasture. for my first sojourn into the swamp, i had joined along with a swamp landowner and a bobcat hunter and had made sense of the swamp through their eyes, through the animal tracks they followed and beloved trees they owned. but on my own, the swamp spoke a language i couldn’t speak, a world that was tantalizing and eerily beautiful but locked beyond my reach. but i reminded myself that swamps are messy places, lacking the clear lines of a beach or of a mountain peak. thus the answers they give are never simple, weaving back on themselves like their winding waterways, creating far more questions than answers, and yet always drawing you deeper in. though a part of me whispered that my quest to find an understanding for or connection with the swamp in this strange new home of mine was futile, i couldn’t help but feel that with time, whether once the spring floods created a world of water, or summer created a buzz of greenery, the swamp might slowly peel back its secrets.

if thou canst not journey thither,
canst not find the lapland-highway,
hasten on a little distance,
in the bear-path leading northward…
swamps there are in which to wander,
heaths in which to roam at pleasure.”
— from the kalevala, epic of the finnish people, compiled by elias lönrot from traditional finnish singers

these questions and answers of the swamp weave their way back in my bloodline for the 700 years my mother’s family has farmed along the banks of the kemijoki river in finnish lapland. every summer our family returns for weeks or months at a time to the farm where she grew up. drawing one’s finger eastwards along a map, our small farm, clinging on to the river, soon gives way to mighty spruce and birch forests broken up by endless swamps indicated by broken blue lines. after all, the finnish word for finland is suomi, which literally translates to… swamp. it was in these swamps as a toddler that i first learned a kind of negotiation with the natural world, discovering its bounty of golden and violet berries, conditioning myself to its hordes of mosquitos, and learning a respect for its shape-shifting reaches where a careless wanderer could become hopelessly lost. i followed the footsteps of my grandmother and my mom, picking up scattered pieces and weaving stories of their swamp wisdom before i took my first steps on my own.

but in my first semester at middlebury college, the lack of any swamps in sight summed up how i felt in a new distant place—rootless without the people and landscapes of florida and finland that had created who i was and what i valued. even scenic sunsets over the adirondacks, or the very name of the college’s outdoors club, the middlebury mountain club, seemed to sneer at me with images of heartless granite peaks waiting to drop rocks or avalanches on me.

yet it was a weekend job pushing a brush mower in the dizzying heat of early fall amongst the woods and fields of orchards of professor marc lapin’s farm that i first considered that there may be more to vermont than i had given it credit for. lapin spent his weekdays as an environmental science professor at middlebury. but his weekend passion was working his land in nearby cornwall, vermont. his description of my project for the day soon turned into soft-spoken recollections and reflections on place, on the history and ecology of the champlain valley, on the abenaki indian word for otter creek, onegilwizbo.

biking my way back from his place one day, i was inspired to open a map of the champlain valley, and found highlighted in swaths of green and zig zags of blue — a vast swamp south of middlebury. it was the cornwall swamp, described as the most biodiverse wetland in all of new england. the more i learned about the swamp the more it presented a contradiction, or at least a question mark, to the image i had of vermont as a place devoid of the life i had found in florida.

as the first snows of winter fell, i learned that now deer and other wildlife would be finding a winter refuge in the swamp’s cedar forests. in the spring and fall, the swamp was a crucial stop-off for migratory birds, and in the summer a home to bear, moose, and bobcats. lapin sent me a report he had co-authored on the swamp, which offered that “those who have visited the swamp will concur that a combination of hydrology, periglacial geomorphology, vegetation development and forest history that includes both natural and human forces has shaped an incredible natural area. from aesthetic, emotional and spiritual perspectives, one need not know much about these things, but rather, only visit the swamp.”

in my new life that didn’t yet feel like a home, learning that there was a place that could be as mucky (apparently as deep as 26 feet) and buggy and wet as the swamps of florida and finland sounded like a call back home, my chance to find a watery way into vermont’s wild soul.

fitz and the swamp

somewhere deep in the northern reaches of the cornwall swamp, thomas “fitz” fitzpatrick — a swamp aficionado, historian, and a landowner — is on the wheel as we turn off the main road and bump along an icy dirt track, passing abandoned farm fields and an icy cattail swamp dammed up by beavers. as we ascend into a swamp island, a prominent “no trespassing” sign announces that we’ve arrived; we soon enter a parklike stretch of woods and walk our way down to a shoreline of cattails. as we enter, there’s a palpable change in fitz, as he laces every observation – from that patch of woods he hopes to turn into a meadow to this road lined with logs that he placed one by one – with a palpable sense of pride and ownership. this is fitz’s place.

i had found fitz on a quest to find a local who was well-acquainted with the swamp for my project, the kind of person of the swamp who looked away from the mountains and who had found amongst the muck and the bugs the song and wisdom of the swamp. it seemed a daunting task, and i procrastinated accordingly. but another middlebury professor, peter lourie, suggested contacting a friend of his, who in turn suggested contacting my new friend and local character, best known as fitz. i overcame my fear of driving in the ice for the first time to visit his home in east middlebury for an interview.

a spry 65, fitz came out to greet me and soon ushered me in to turn on a tv screen revealing a satellite view map of the swamp. it was an impressive expanse of green, bordered by the blue ribbon of otter creek to the east and sprawling into farms, woods, and roads. he calls it “the only real wilderness in the champlain valley,” just one piece of what really is a vast swamp that runs along otter creek for 15 miles, even though farms and drainage ditches fragmented it into smaller pieces. he asks me to take a closer look at what seems to be just a green monolith on the map, outlining a swamp “island” with drier land and mature hardwood trees, surrounded by a sea of wet, grassy swamp with dead trees. the 115 acres of swampland he owns and loves center around one of these swamp islands, places full of rich organic matter and life.

two days later, fitz and are finally on his beloved property, after a chance encounter on the road while bobcat hunting with barry forbes and his grandson cameron. we sit in plastic chairs on the waterfront, humbled by the view of a wide-open cattail marsh framed by breadloaf mountain and a sky of blue and swirly white clouds. the only sign of humanity is fitz’s hand-built plank dock that winds deeper into the marsh. waving his hand over the view, fitz narrates the poetry of the seasons of the swamp. in the springtime, mountain snowmelt creates a flooded landscape often 3-4 feet deep with water. the swamp becomes a haven for migratory birds that fill its canopy with birdsong. fitz invites me to join him this spring when “you can drive out to the islands with a boat,” for a swamp motorboat ride and an island barbeque — a tough offer to refuse.

then, says fitz, “the world just starts to grow.” as a profusion of plant life explodes in the summertime, it sucks up that water and the swamp slowly recedes. the peeling eaves of bark in shagbark hickory trees come alive with vast colonies of bats, including the endangered little brown bat. fitz shows me a photo of what i assume are hundreds of geese. but on closer look, i realize that they are deerflies that arrive “by the hundreds and thousands, and they scratch for blood.”

the legendary swarms of the swamps of finland have inspired mosquito killing championships. when a champion of the event was asked what he would do with the $350 in winnings from the competition, he said, “go someplace where there are no mosquitoes.”

the swamp takes a toll in other ways as well; because swamp trees live in more stressful conditions, fall comes early to the swamp, where peak foliage is already happening at the end of september. today the marsh is a brown slush, but when the swamp freezes over properly, fitz experiences the magic of what could never be a sport in florida’s swamps: ice skating.

“i’ve skated so much around and across that swamp that the only way i can get back is by following my tracks,” he said.

before the advent of electric or gas heating, a freeze in the swamp would prompt local families to bring in teams of horses and log and pull out trees from the rich cedar forests in the heart of the swamp for firewood. as we contemplate winter’s kingdom over the swamp, fitz rises and takes me on a walking tour around the edge of his swamp island. the dry park-like woods he actively manicures to our right become a flooded world of ice and pools our water to our left. we walk around what he calls “the mother tree,” a towering tree at the edge of the island almost 5 feet in diameter that seems to command the energy of everything around it.

fitz’ story in the swamp today began when he met and married his wife constance while living in alaska during the 1980s. he owned a salmon boat while she was a rehabilitation therapist. constance suffered from multiple sclerosis, a debilitative and progressive disease that leaves its victims bedridden and robs them of basic functions. they moved back to vermont in 1997 to seek treatment for constance. over the next 13 years, during the brief periods of respite from round-the-clock care for her fitz would find solace in visits to the cornwall swamp, returning to the place where he had hunted in his youth. as his fascination with the swamp grew with each visit, fitz searched local archives to track down old land titles and property maps of the swamp. piece by piece, he purchased what is now a 115-acre plot from sellers who sometimes didn’t even know they owned a piece of the swamp.

fitz’s trail camera captured this deer in his property in the swamp. behind are maps he has unearthed of ownership plots in the swamp- one from the 1910s and another from the late 1700s.
after his wife passed away in 2010, fitz devoted himself to working his land, felling trees, clearing trails, and constructing a dock as he prepares to build a cabin that will overlook the open woods and open marsh in the place he loves. as we return to his shoreline by the dock after a looping hike, fitz shows me a small series of gorgeous marble stones, incongruous in the dark earth. fitz plans to create a memorial for her out of a particularly smooth and beautiful marble slab. he will inscribe in stone the words from her obituary: “she lived so honestly, she gave so generously, she took so gracefully, and she loved so perfectly.” fitz usually bring forth a stream of eloquent observances and recollections. but now he is at a loss for words in a silence from a loss that words can’t capture. it hits home how much the swamp must mean to fitz. the zulu word ubuntu literally means “i am because of you,” and is often described as the community of life to which we belong, where each of us is a unique part that supports the whole. it’s a word that reminds of why fitz and i and all of us find such connection and meaning in our relations with family, with our community, with the natural world. in the wake of his loss, far more than just recreation, fitz found that participating in the constant renewal of life in the swamp has been a way to still go on living, immersed in creation’s healing and joys large and small while still celebrating her memory.

tracking and seeing in the swamp with barry

in the moment when i truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment i also love him. i think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. and then, in that very moment i love them — i destroy them.”
— ender wiggin, ender’s game, by orson scott card

there’s a feeling that you get, yeah you’re happy you got the animal. but at the same time there’s the feeling in your mind: what do i do? i don’t have that particular animal to chase anymore. without a doubt, hunting is killing. some people it bothers. and i think it should bother you to a point. you’re taking another life. just got to look things over and give thanks.”
— barry forbes, lifelong hunter and trapper in middlebury (radio interview)

as a blue pickup truck rolls up, i’m instructed to hop in the back, where i’m promptly smothered by kisses from a hound dog by the name of harriet. i shake hands with barry and his grandson cameron, while trying not to set off the gun my legs are awkwardly wrapped around. i reflect that life can take you in funny places; this is certainly not the thoreauvian saunter of contemplation and robert frost poetry i had originally envisioned for my journey into the swamp. for starters, i am following barry, legendary lifelong trapper, tracker, and hunter. furthermore, we’re headed to the cornwall swamp to hunt bobcats, relying upon harriet’s tracking nose and chasing skills and barry’s generations of tracking and hunting knowledge. barry needs snow to track properly, and his dogs can’t walk on a crust of ice. a string of poor winters related to climate change have made bobcat hunting harder, but this year the conditions are finally holding up.

the truck halts without warning, and cameron hops out to peer at a promising track – bobcat. a back and forth begins. what did the cat weigh? how “hot” (fresh) are the tracks? as he hops back in, harriet’s occasional whines turn into a constant drone. barry coos “i know you’re anxious, huh girl?” barry owns 20 hounds that are crucial for tracking down bobcats, but the comforting noogie he gives her reveals his soft spot for them. barry explains “this is a dog we have a chance to own, she’s showing a lot of potential. she did a real good job for her first time out” yesterday, when she chased and treed a bobcat that eventually got away, as often happens. after all, barry only has a 10% success rate while hunting for cats. considering that their pelts may sell for only $40, it’s clear that the hunt has a meaning for him far more than any kind of business sense. a pick-up comes our way with a father and son out rabbit hunting. they pull up for a chat with the easy camaraderie of fellow hunters. barry quips, “i found with age i’ve slowed down a step with age. not two! just one.” although he is in his mid-60s, barry’s relentless quiet energy that allows him to spend all day tromping the swamps on the trail of bobcats.

we come upon a particularly promising track.

“there’s that 30-pounder.”

“not a bit of snow on those tracks.”

the tracks must be fresh. the hunt begins. they devise a plan: cameron and i are to follow a narrow, cleared alley of snow between two stretches of woods while barry and harriet pursue the main track. as we begin, my anticipation is dampened in my first step by a thorn that’s inflamed my right foot for the past two weeks, despite my excellent prescription of ignoring it and doing nothing. on the next step, i’m ruminating on all the possibilities through which my clumsiness and general inexperience will manifest itself dramatically and ruin everything for them. suddenly i spot a small brown ball running up a slope.

“what’s that?” i whisper to cameron while i wildly wave my finger. he looks up and his eyes light up.

“possum! hey, you’ve got a good eye.” cameron smiles. perhaps i might have a chance in the swamp after all.

when we come across cat tracks again, cameron lays down his middle finger into a toe mark. if it’s this size, the bobcat is big enough to hunt. but if it’s the size of his pinky finger, “we need to give them a few more years.” behind a split second of shooting action is endless periods of walking, analyzing, and understanding. barry and cameron know the swamp like the back of their hands, predicting how to trap a cat in a thicket surrounded by more open areas. the whole day i’ll continue to be quietly awed by the intimate knowledge and the stories barry and cameron find in tracks, the way they can put themselves in the place of a bobcat and in the wider landscape and imagine where it would rest, where it would hide, and where it would run.

as we cross a particularly icy part of the swamp, our feet sometimes plunging through the crackling ice into the muck below, a growing crescendo of high-pitched barks pierces our ears. harriet is in active pursuit, and we snap to a level of alertness i never knew i had. as we crash through the swamp after harriet, my pulse speeds at full tilt, every atom of my being is on the hunt, dodging branches and following the direction of her cries. i suddenly realize that exactly this, this thrill of the pursuit, this complete immersion, is what we were born to do from our days as hunter gatherers that ran animals down through our endurance. suddenly barry informs us on the radio that harriet is not after any kind of bobcat—she is astray on the trail of a coyote. we find harriet unchained and on the run and panically coax her to come to our side, lest misfortune befall a coyote or harriet or both. all of us huffing and puffing, barry arrives crestfallen. we’re at a loss as to what to do next; all the excitement has likely scared off the bobcat. i sense barry regrets that he may have let harriet go too easily; in a vocation where you only successfully get a kill 10% of the time, one is always learning.

yet in the aftermath of the excitement, i also feel an inappropriate sense of…. relief? it’s clear after spending any amount of time with barry that he does every action with a sense of deep morality and respect for the woods and for wildlife. but lord, what would i do if we shot a bobcat? a scenario plays on repeat in my head: after an epic chase, a graceful bobcat is fatally struck; i run over and cradle its head in my arms as i witness, in the words of aldo leopold, “a fierce green fire dying in her eyes.” oh, my feline comrade, oh worthy adversary, farewell to thee!

yet i remember that barry must confronts the truth of killing face to face, while i purchase it in neat plastic wrap at the supermarket that obscures the far worse cruelty within. in today’s florida, we turn our backs away from the swamps that surround us but kill them and their inhabitants with our hunger for new space for subdivisions and more water for our lawns. barry said “there aren’t many of us [traditional bobcat hunters] left… we’re a dying breed.” every year, fewer and fewer hunters are getting out into the woods in vermont and across the us—the number of hunters in vermont has declined by 2% every year since the 1960s. barry expresses regret that so many of us spend much of our time behind a computer, and hopes more people can “just get out into the woods.”

perhaps the world needs barrys and camerons, those who can return to live in the hunter’s landscape that we once all called home, of living in tracks and signs and reading hummocks and clusters of trees where the swamp comes alive. during my first semester at middlebury, i mostly explored the woods of vermont in the tunnel of well-worn trails, breezing past the unfamiliar woods on the way to a scenic vista, feeling like a stranger in these woods. it’s missed something, missed something the strand of something i felt on summer days in finland my sisters and i would race rusty bikes to lassinjänga swamp, named after my great-uncle lassi eilitta. there we would drop our bikes to hop over a ditch and step into the swamp, hopping between carpets of moss to scan for orange hilla, berries that only grow in these swamps of the far north. each july, their emergence sparks a national obsession called “hilla fever,” as families like ours return to the same swamps that we have for centuries, bringing a thermos of coffee to spend the whole day hunting for hilla. like any bobcat hunter knows, a real hilla picker can’t just show up in the swamp and find one’s quarry patiently prostrate. it entails suffering, trudging miles through the bog and sometimes plunging into the water and muck, losing what feels like pints of blood to hellacious mosquitoes. it requires listening to the swamp, reading patches of grass and clusters of pines that may hint where the next island of golden berries may be amongst a mossy sea.

barry says that despite the thrill of a successful kill, “it’s not whether we get something or not, it’s about being out there with the dogs”. for him, hunting’s meaning is ultimately in something like the spirit of ubuntu, being out in the woods, depending upon his dogs and his hunting partner, learning from the animals he hunts. sometimes after hours of moving from one hilla berry to the next deep in the swamp, you realize that you have suddenly forgotten any sense of self amongst the sphagnum and the sun. you follow the same rhythm as the 30 generations of your family who have picked the same berries in the same swamp for 700 years.

back at middlebury, i collapse exhausted into my bed for a deep afternoon sleep. in confused dreams, i see a vivid image of a bobcat track, blue in the melting snow. i imagine the swamp crisscrossed with tracks of possums, coyotes, deer, and cats, their stories weaving in and out of each other and bringing the swamp to life with the hidden mysteries of their lives. tomorrow, barry, cameron, and harriet will again be on the pursuit deep in the swamp. fitz will be out in his piece of paradise, taking in his view of the cattails and bread loaf mountain. and my gut tells me that though i may be hemmed in within four walls and fluorescent walls for the next few days or weeks, soon the swamp will call again, and i’ll be there again, somehow finding my place in the swamp.

—

this piece originally published in winter term 2018: https://sites.middlebury.edu/adventurewriting2018/student-work/oscar-psychas/

wetlands are an extremely important habitat area for many wildlife species, which include migratory bird species and others. according to the usda, over one-third of all bird species inhabit wetland areas along with 5,000 other species of plants. the severe decrease in wetland area in the united states has resulted in an obvious decrease in habitat area for wildlife, which will further negatively affect their populations. furthermore, wetland areas provide food sources and areas which are necessary for migratory patterns of certain species, so without the increased protection of wetland areas, we are sure to see a negatively affected wildlife population in these areas. 

wetlands have been devastated by the agriculture industry, which occupies more than 50% of the land occupied by the united states according to the usda, this massive area of use has been attributed to the draining and use of wetland areas for farmland (nickerson et al. 2012). in our nation’s most agriculturally productive state, california, 91% of its original wetland has been lost. the same can be seen in other large agriculture states such as indiana, illinois, and iowa which have all lost more than 80% of their original wetland area according to the usda (dahl 2018). development for urban areas has also been a large proponent of wetland loss, according to the us fish and wildlife 

service, almost 61,630,000 acres of wetland area was lost between 2004 and 2009 in pursuit of urban development (dahl 2011).

wetland areas provide valuable services to land and humans, including flood control, water purification, and carbon sequestration. wetlands are a natural and highly effective means of water purification, as well as holding excess rainfall as to minimize flooding in low lying areas (hemminger 2003). wetlands are also one of earth’s most effective carbon sequestration systems, as they hold over 14% of the earth’s ground stored carbon (dinsa et al. 2019).

even though a large portion of the united state’s wetlands has been lost, all is not lost with new efforts to revitalize or mitigate, wetland areas. wetland mitigation efforts involve restoring or reclaiming wetland areas lost to farmland or development. by reintroducing native plant species, wetland mitigators hope to restore the country’s once-great wetlands. this process is extremely complex and is extremely dependant on water quality and the success of vegetation reintroduction (yando et al. 2019). conservation organizations such as ducks unlimited focus on conserving wetland areas and working to ensure the survival of these areas for future generations. 

wetland destruction is an extremely important issue facing our country, affecting flood intensity, wildlife population and diversity, and quality of future life for the human race. the importance of wetlands cannot be understated, their role in flood control alone should be more than enough to provoke change in our society. it is paramount to recognize and attempt a solution to wetland destruction, whether that be more stringent development requirements or mitigation efforts, wetlands need to be protected.

dahl, t. e. (2011). status and trends of wetlands in the conterminous united states 2004 to 2009, 1–112. retrieved from https://www.fws.gov/wetlands/status-and-trends/index.html

dahl, t. e. (2018, june 25). wetlands loss since the revolution. retrieved october 8, 2019, from https://www.fws.gov/wetlands/status-and-trends/index.html.

nickerson, c., & borchers, a. (n.d.). how is land in the united states used? a focus on agricultural land. retrieved from https://www.ers.usda.gov/amber-waves/2012/march/data-feature-how-is-land-used/.

“natural resources conservation service.” nrcs, united states department of agriculture, www.nrcs.usda.gov/wps/portal/nrcs/detail/national/home/?cid=nrcs143_023509.

yando, e. s., osland, m. j., jones, s. f., & hester, m. w. (2019). jump‐starting coastal wetland restoration: a comparison of marsh and mangrove foundation species. restoration ecology, 27(5), 1145–1154. https://doi-org.esf.idm.oclc.org/10.1111/rec.12963

hemminger, p. (2003). wetland mitigation banking: banking wetland mitigation credits is complicated, but may have benefits. journal of soil and water conservation, 58(6), 118a+. retrieved from https://link-gale-com.esf.idm.oclc.org/apps/doc/a111850727/ppes?u=sunycesfsc&sid=ppes&xid=ae326e01

dinsa, t. t., & gemeda, d. o. (2019). the role of wetlands for climate change mitigation and biodiversity conservation. journal of applied sciences & environmental management, 23(7), 1297–1300. https://doi-org.esf.idm.oclc.org/10.4314/jasem.v23i7.16

the sunshine state’s underground freshwater reserves are being drained at an alarming rate, threatening the drinking water of millions, and severely damaging the complex ecosystem of the water cycle.

state and local governments already are working on solutions, but experts are calling for firmer action.

“if we just keep going the way we are going now, we are likely to be in trouble in the not too distant future,” said todd crowl, a professor at florida international university in the department of biology and director of the southeast environmental research center.

“the supply is finite, but the access to it is not finite. it’s limitless,” said robert glennon, regents’ professor and professor of law and public policy at the university of arizona. glennon studies water policy around the world and believes that florida is part of a greater water crisis in the u.s.  

“we americans are spoiled. we wake up in the morning, and we turn on the faucet and out comes as much as we want, for less than we pay for cell phone service or cable television,” glennon said. “most of our fellow citizens, when they think of water, if they think of it at all, they think of it as the air, infinite and inexhaustible, when for all practical purposes it is quite exhaustible, so we take it for granted.”

the associate director of the florida springs institute, heather obara, said, “we have a lot of overpumping of our aquifer, meaning that the demand for water in florida is really high, and we are using more water faster than our aquifer can replenish itself.

“we have a lot of water usage here in florida, such as large scale agricultural usage, as well as urban residential usages that are depleting the aquifer at a rapid rate,” she said.

this depletion of groundwater is a problem throughout the state, with both southern and northern florida experiencing shortages and environmental effects, according to the florida department of environmental protection. many of florida’s biodiverse ecosystems are dependent on freshwater to be clean of pollutants and at a certain water level to function.

the florida dep’s most recent water management assessment states that without new planning efforts, “existing sources of water will not adequately meet the reasonable-beneficial needs for the next 20 years.”

springs are a visible health indicator

in north florida, the natural springs are one of the best indicators of the health of the aquifers, obara said. the freshwater flows up from the underground aquifers into these springs through cracks in the limestone.

the florida springs institute, which studies north florida’s aquifers, has documented a significant drop of freshwater flowing into springs. according to a study they conducted in 2018, average spring flows in florida have declined by an estimated 32% from 1950 to 2010.

another consequence of low flow in springs is that nitrogen is polluting the ecosystem. according to obara, runoff inundated with nitrogen and phosphorus from agriculture and septic tanks is entering the water system, which shifts the balance of the whole ecosystem. nitrogen is fuel for plant growth, and when there is an overabundance of nitrogen in the springs, there are massive algae blooms. obara explains that without a strong flow, the springs cannot flush the algae out of the system, which ends up killing food sources for animals and disrupting the food chain.

“we thought we could just use and use that water, and now we’re dealing with the reality,” obara said.

the everglades is just as vital to the water cycle

unfortunately, the water crisis is not limited to north florida. statewide population growth has caused more and more land to be claimed for residential use. and local governments continue to authorize the drilling of new wells — and to expand development into swamps, despite the wetlands acting as a filter for water entering the aquifer.

like the springs in north florida, the everglades — a unesco world heritage site and a designated international biosphere reserve — is an integral part of south florida’s water cycle. the everglades plays a vital role in the delicate equilibrium required to maintain the aquifers by keeping a pressure counterbalance against saltwater pushing its way into the aquifer, said crowl, the florida international university professor. as the water drains out of the aquifer and the everglades, saltwater begins to intrude into freshwater reserves.

“it’s just a simple pressure problem,” crowl said. but the problem is only worsened by rising sea levels, which are increasing the pressure, he said. crowl studies the salinity of underground well water, sampling more than 100 wells throughout south florida.

crowl was not ready to make any predictions without continued monitoring in the future, but he did say “we are getting higher and higher concentrations in more and more of our wells where we measure saltwater intrusion. watching the rate that’s happening is a little bit scary.”

the government has a plan, but…

the florida department of environmental protection is one of the multiple statewide government agencies that are studying the problem and collaborating with local governments to address the crisis.

in a report published in 2017, the dep projected that between 2015 and 2035, the population in florida will grow by 27%, to 25.2 million, and that public demand for water will increase by 23%.

the dep has formulated a plan to address the increasing dependence on the aquifer. in the same 2017 study, they proposed 747 projects around the state to conserve water, costing $3.7 billion. the majority of the projects either use water reclamation or call for treatment of brackish groundwater.

but these projects seem to only treat the crisis, rather than address the underlying problem. obara and crowl both believe the most crucial step to addressing the crisis and eventually reverse it, is to commit to conserving the natural aquifer.

with one hand, florida’s state and local governments seem committed to fixing the problem, but with the other hand, they continue to take actions that seemingly contradict that first commitment. the miami-dade county commission recently approved the construction of american dream miami, a massive megamall, larger than the mall of america in minnesota. american dream will have 2,000 hotel rooms, an indoor ski slope, an ice-climbing wall, and a water park with a “submarine lake.” the project is now working to secure environmental and water permits for the 174-acre site, which is a previously developed area adjacent to the everglades.

“there really hasn’t been a good emphasis on conservation in florida,” obara said. “we need a shift in the mentality here in florida that we haven’t had before. we have always looked at the environment as a resource rather than something that not only benefits our health for our environment to be healthy, but it also benefits our state’s economy.”

“the point is if we don’t get the everglades restored pretty quickly to have freshwater to push back saltwater, we are going to be in a world of hurt,” crowl said.

so what can be done?

glennon suggests using economics and policy as a possible solution. he believes if the government increases the price of water, the natural economic response will be to conserve the resource. “it is a matter of supply and demand,” he said.

glennon still believes that access to water should be a human right, and suggests that 12-to-15 gallons per person, per day should be subsidized, avoiding penalizing those who cannot afford the price increase. glennon also calls for reform within agriculture, proposing that farms need to change their methods.

“i think the farmers developed their farms at a time when water was plentiful, and they’re doing what they’ve always done, using water the same way,” glennon said.

florida’s water problem is complicated and challenging to fix, but the outlook is still positive. according to crowl, it is possible to reverse saltwater intrusion, the health of the everglades can be restored, and the aquifer can be allowed to refill. for florida, there is still time to reverse the crisis.

“i am optimistic. is there a crisis? you bet there is. but can we do something about it? yes, and what we want to do is act before the crisis turns into a catastrophe,” glennon said. 

the united states environmental protection agency defines a wetland as areas where water covers the soil, or is present either at or near the surface of the soil all year for varying periods of time during the year (epa.gov). generally, wetlands can be divided into two categories, coastal/tidal and inland/non-tidal. both of these wetlands provide vital habitat for a variety of aquatic and terrestrial species. although, over the last century there has been a significant decline in wetland habitat. this habitat loss can be attributed to many different causes, and as a result, the biodiversity of these areas has suffered. 

wetlands such as coastal marshes and freshwater swamps provide many benefits to humans. these wetlands are highly productive and diverse ecosystems. they provide many ecosystem services, like water purification, buffering of runoff and river discharge, production of food and fiber, and ecotourism (reis, hermoso, hamilton, ward, chouinard, lehner, linke, 2017). although, even with all the benefits wetlands provide, the degradation of these ecosystems continues to rise. the reported long-term loss of natural wetlands averages between 54% and 57%, reaching up to 90% in some regions of the world. this study on wetland degradation shows historical habitat loss including a 69%-75% decline of inland wetlands in the twentieth century (reis, hermoso, hamilton, ward, chouinard, lehner, linke, 2017).  the loss of these vital ecosystems can be much attributed human development and expansion.

in an interview with waterfowl ecologist dr. michael schummer of suny-esf we discussed the loss of wetland habitat and what it can potentially mean for the wildlife that live there. dr. schummer specifically picked long island salt marshes as an example to explain the human impact on wetland degradation. “in the mid-1900’salt marshes on long island were dredged in an attempt to decrease the mosquito population (schummer, 2019).” this resulted in long cuts through wetlands all across the south shore of long island. 

in conclusion, dr. schummer stated that “the main cause of wetland loss is due to human development, urbanization, and miss management (schummer,2019).” with the loss of this habitat, it is only natural the biodiversity of these ecosystems will also feel the effects. “when you lose habitat like that, waterfowl, invertebrates, aquatic species and the wildlife that use these areas will be impacted (schummer, 2019).” the focus must now shift to preserving what wetlands are left and restoring habitat in suitable areas. 

in another interview with suny-esf masters candidate/ waterfowl research assistant, gary macy touches on the loss of wetland habitat and its effects on biodiversity. macy also turned to long island’s salt marshes as a prime example of wetland loss. “mosquito dredging led to coastal habitat degradation and it changed the flow mechanics of the wetlands, which alters the habitat and therefore the niche of the species that live there (macy, 2019).” restoring these wetlands will not only take a lot of money and time, but also political power as long island and new york have many levels of government littered with policies, permits, and regulations. 

the common theme through both interviews was that human impact and urbanization has been a major cause of wetland loss across north america. with this being said, it is important to engage the public and wetland-dependent communities about conservation and restoration efforts. in 2017, a survey was conducted to gauge the general public’s interest in wetland conservation and restoration efforts. the survey resulted in a 23% response rate of the 5,000 mail surveys that were sent out. the public was aware of wetlands in their community, and many had visited within the last few months. most common reason for visits were walking, hiking, biking, bird watching and enjoying nature. the respondents listed their concerns about wetland benefits, and they included clean water, clean air, and habitat for wildlife (wilkins, miller, 2018).

environmental communicators must develop ways to help strengthen the connection between the public and local wetland ecosystems. there is no one solution to wetland loss, but collective efforts can make a significant impact. supporting conservation organizations like ducks unlimited and delta waterfowl are important as they help restore and preserve wetland habitat. at a local level, individuals can make a difference through recreation and use of these wetlands. showing local government officials that the public values these ecosystems and they need to be protected. the development of wetlands must end if there is hope to restore what has been lost and bring back a flourishing biodiversity. focusing on coastal wetlands is important to help increase certain populations like the american black duck and atlantic brant, who use these marshes as wintering habitat. there are many species that rely heavily on specific marsh niches, like a coastal wetland and if that habitat continues to disappear, populations will suffer. 

as the environmental movement continues to grow and refine its edges, there must be a concentration on wetland habitat. these ecosystems provide life for numerous kinds of aquatic and terrestrial species. the public needs to become more informed and involved in conservation efforts. if you teach someone to love something, they will want to protect it. 

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references:
macy, g. (2019, february 20). wetland habitat loss and biodiversity [personal interview].
reis, v., hermoso, v., hamilton, s. k., ward, d., fluet-chouinard, e., lehner, b., & linke, s. (2017). a global assessment of inland    wetland conservation status. bioscience, 67(6), 523-533. doi:10.1093/biosci/bix045
schummer, m., dr. (2019, february 22). wetland habitat loss and biodiversity [personal
interview].
what is a wetland? (2018, june 12). retrieved february 20, 2019, from
https://www.epa.gov/wetlands/what-wetland
wilkins, e. j., & miller, h. m. (2018). public views of wetlands and waterfowl conservation in
the united states—results of a survey to inform the 2018 update of the north american
waterfowl management plan. open-file report. doi:10.3133/ofr20171148 
 

some of the ways humans degrade water quality in coastal areas is through nutrient pollution, land-use change, and industrial contamination. the delaware bay and its tributaries are not only affected by activities in the immediate area, but from those that might occur at the far reaches of the watershed. these upstream inputs of pollution eventually work their way downstream to the bay where they are accumulated and compounded.

“one of the largest sources of pollution is from fertilizers that lead to nutrient pollution and eutrophication within our waterways,” said taylor deemer, a master of science student in marine biosciences at the university of delaware, lewes campus. 

deemer explains that farmers anticipate losing a portion of the fertilizer that they put down on their fields to runoff from rain events. as a result, to ensure that their crops receive the proper amount of nutrients, they often put down extra. these nutrients are not just useful for promoting the growth of terrestrial plants, but also promote the growth of aquatic ones as well, such as phytoplankton. eutrophication is when these excess nutrients reach the bay, leading to what is known as algal blooms, which are proliferations of various phytoplankton species.

phytoplankton is generally a good thing in aquatic systems, as it provides much of the oxygen that aquatic organisms need to survive. these bloom events, however, lead to bacterial growth that draws down the oxygen levels and lead to fish kills for those organisms that can’t escape the area.

options to combat nutrient pollution would be to simply use less pesticides, herbicides, and fertilizers. an additional option is to find methods of application that incorporate the fertilizers into the soil, rather than just spreading them across the surface where they run off more easily.

another issue that promotes these blooms is land-use change. changing the usage of land is especially problematic when coastal salt marsh environments are removed and used for other purposes, like home developments, shopping centers, and industrial properties. salt marshes, when present, act as buffers between the mainland and the estuaries. they absorb runoff pollution from the mainland, trapping it in the sediments. these systems also mitigate coastal flooding events by acting as a drainage area during times of increased water level, such as major storms or extreme tidal events.

deemer added: “they also provide a nursery habitat for many species of fish and invertebrates, acting as a safe space for the young to grow and mature.”

i, personally, have spent countless hours educating the public on the importance of these wetlands as the creative director of a team of ud students. as a team, we constructed a display on vernal pools for the 2018 philadelphia flower show. with this display, we illustrated how crucial ephemeral pools and wetlands are to the reproduction and development of aquatic species. 

when speaking with deemer, i asked whether building berms to combat nutrient pollution would be effective. but he said, “it would be really difficult to intercept all of the water by building berms. it would be much easier and more environmentally friendly to promote wetland habitat protection and restoration.”

wetland restoration was the focus of the university of delaware’s piece at the flower show. the exhibit urged attendees to contact their local department of natural resources to find out if there are certification programs in their areas. some states even have programs where citizens document vernal pools so they are protected. and you can do the same from your home, and your state. just look up your local department of natural resources, or check for a local extension office. 

the wilderness society is the leading american conservation organization working to protect our nation’s public lands, the 635 million acres collectively owned by the american people and managed by our government. from well-known icons to hidden gems, these lands provide us all with clean air and water; abundant wildlife; havens for recreation, learning, and solitude; and a foundation for a healthy planet. they are also important sources of renewable energy and vital natural resources that must be managed wisely.