When We're Afraid We Won't Have Enough

Updates below blog

Why is aggression always the Republican answer to problems these days? The drought in Georgia has heated up the rhetoric over state boundaries. First, Governor Perdue disputed Alabama's and Florida's rights to the water of the Chattahoochee River; now state Republicans are trying to get a piece of Tennessee.

In the late 1700s, the Tennessee-Georgia border was set at the 35th parallel. However, in the early 1800s, a surveying team placed the border at a little over a mile south of that parallel, and thus the Tennessee River has been within the Tennessee state line since that time. No one complained until this year, when Georgia Republican state senators introduced a bill to change the border back to the 35th parallel.

This is how Republicans want to solve Atlanta's thirst: not by conserving what we have, not by regulating growth and thus the out-sized demands on our resources; not by changing people's attitudes toward water use--but by stealing from our neighbors!

According to some news sources, changing the state line would also give Georgia a slice of Chattanooga and Mississippi a slice of Memphis.

1818 Map Error Raises New Water War Front," Atlanta Journal-Constitution

"Drought-Thirsty Georgia Wants Slice of Tennessee," The Ledger

"Dehydrated Georgia Wants Slice of Tennessee," The St. Augustine Record

Updates: What Others Are Saying

"Bordering on Ludicrous," says the Augusta Chronicle Editorial Staff, on Feb. 24, 2008

It's not just about water, says Sen. John Bulloch (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more, say no more)

Secret water talks affect more than those within I-284, says Dusty Nix , for the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer editorial board

Border Bill a diversionary stunt by leaders who lack courage, says Bill Shipp, of the The Athens Banner-Herald, Feb. 24, 2008

Rain, finally

Today is the third day of rain here in parched metro Atlanta. The rain we have received won't make much difference in the lake and reservoir levels, but perhaps it signals the end of the drought. I once read a poem in which hell was described as one sunny day after another: clear blue sky for eternity. We've had a taste of that hell here, with each lovely clear day heralding more shrinking water supplies.

The first day it rained, I collected water from downspouts, storing the water in a large plastic garbage pail for future use in watering our plants during the outdoor watering ban. The second day it rained, I was at work and unable to continue my water conservation plan. The third day of rain, today, I gaze optimistically out the window, hoping that the rain heralds a wetter season and eventual cessation of watering bans. (We are planning, however, to install rain barrels so that I won't have to get wet collecting water in tiny bathroom garbage pails to transfer to a larger container!)

The drought isn't over, of course, and even if Lake Sidney Lanier fills to its banks again, the worry of drought shouldn't be over. Atlanta continues to grow, adding "55 acres of concrete, asphalt, and rooftops" every day, according to a University of Georgia study that has been quoted recently in the media. Concrete and asphalt divert the water, preventing it from soaking into the ground. The concrete, asphalt, and rooftops absorb heat and release that heat into the atmosphere, affecting weather patterns. Unchecked growth and unregulated construction damage the environment and guarantee future catastrophes.

Scientists have been warning us about the effects of environmental degradation for years, but we haven't listened, and our governmental leaders have downplayed the danger. Even today, as wildfires destroy thousands of homes and acres of forests in California, as Central Texas recovers from massive floods, as cities in the Southeast, such as Atlanta, face severe water shortages, our government continues to muffle the clarion call for deliberate and decisive action: the Associated Press today reports that the White House "edited congressional testimony given Tuesday by the director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention on the impact of climate change on health, removing specific scientific references to potential health risks, according to two sources familiar with the documents." (emphasis mine)

And here in Georgia, our Republican governor threatens to sue the Army Corps of Engineers in order to prevent water being released from Lake Lanier for endangered species downstream. "What's more important, people or mussels"? he has sputtered.

Our esteemed leaders just don't get it--or worse, they get it and just don't care, opting for the short term, politically expedient action. We are the mussels; the mussels are us. We are part of this environment, not separated from--nor superior to--the environment. The choice here should not be an either/or, should never have come to an either/or. Our stupid decisions--in political leaders and in environmental husbandry--have put us where we are. And no governmental redaction or suppression of scientific research is going to prevent the consequences.

"The situation is very dire"

We now have buckets and pans in our shower, in a system that's not efficient but that works to collect bath water. When we moved to the metro Atlanta area from Central Texas in June, we left behind an area receiving record floods. We are now in a state of record drought. The red clay of our lawn is hard as rock. Preparing our yard for planting native plants, vegetables and herbs is daunting. Tom took a pickax to this soil destroyed by cotton farming, and though this house was built in the 1940s, I can see little evidence that any previous owner tried to replenish the soil. Even with a pickax and shovels, we could dig no deeper than three or four inches: the soil is that devoid of moisture.We've found free compost, chipped prunings and leaves composted by the county--but there's not enough water to plant.

Until a couple of weeks ago, people in our area could water their lawns or wash their cars three times a week. We don't water grass unless we're trying to establish a native plant, as we did in Texas when we were establishing buffalo grass in our lawn, a native, drought-resistant species. So it seemed to me that the water situation couldn't be too dire since the county was allowing citizens to water their lawns. Then we were put on an outside watering ban about a week or so ago. Now I read that Atlanta's "main source of water, Lake Lanier, could be drained dry in 90 to 121 days."

How has it come to this dire situation so soon? I think that our leaders are slow to ask for sacrifices. Our country is run by people who do not prepare for the long term. We've seen that in the planning--or lack of planning--in the war in Iraq. We've seen it in our government's disregard of the signs of global warming. We see it in disasters such as droughts, floods, and hurricanes. We're to blame, too. We're the ones who elect these folks. We're the ones buying the huge trucks, Hummers, and SUVs. We're the ones watering our expansive lawns of grass while Lake Lanier drains to record low levels.

I don't know how our plans will succeed for turning our yard into a native plant paradise and edible estate. We're catching shower water just to sustain the plants we have already.

And we're down to three-minute showers.

How to Eat Your Lawn
Fritz Haeg: Edible Lawn Manifesto
University of Georgia: Georgia Drought