In Lieu of Roses...

... give your Valentine some fair-trade chocolate! Or plan an activity together; depending on how much you're willing to invest in this Hallmark holiday, you could go ice skating, make reservations at a nice restaurant, see a museum, volunteer, or even cook together. Whatever. Just no roses. Especially cheap roses. I'm serious-- do or give anything but roses!

Not only are roses cliche, they're also ruining the already fragile ecosystems of some of the developing countries from which our supermarket bouquets are exported. In Kenya, for example, the cultivation of Valentine's Day roses is draining (and polluting) Lake Naivasha, a precious and crucial source of water for the region. And in Colombia, the roses they export have been sprayed liberally with highly toxic pesticides and dipped in a myriad of chemicals by the time they hit store shelves. In addition to ruining their soil, surface water and groundwater, the workers who are repeatedly exposed to these chemicals (many of whom are single mothers) are at higher risk for health problems. Many children whose mothers came into contact with these pesticides and preservatives during their pregnancies showed signs--both physical and mental-- of developmental disabilities or delays.

So next year, consider starting a new tradition. Guys, I speak from experience when I say that, while flowers are nice, I'm much more impressed by a gift or a gesture that was well thought out and came from the heart. It doesn't have to cost a lot; in fact, I usually prefer that it doesn't! It just has to show that you care.

However, if you (and/or your Valentine) is/are dead-set on giving/receiving a colorful bouquet, consider buying organic. OrganicBouquet.com offers a variety of Earth-friendly options, including some rose alternatives that are grown a little closer to home. Potted plants are also nice (I like orchids!); they generally don't wither in a week and, when watered, can be enjoyed year round. So get creative, guys-- you can thank me later!

Alma Mater Goes Green!

I admit, I perused the cover article of my latest alumni magazine with a mixture of excitement and envy. The feature story championed all the ways the University has "gone green" in the decade since my graduation, outlining both the big and little steps they are taking toward environmental sustainability.

While the seeds of environmental change had already been planted during my time there, the fruits of these labors did not materialize until after I had left; the University began offering a minor in environmental studies my senior year (but by then it was too late for me to add the program and still graduate on schedule) and it was offered as a major in 2005. The LEED-certified Welcome Center opened in 2008, and the GREENetwork, a task force that formed the year after I graduated, meets monthly to oversee the many environmental initiatives that are taking place campus wide.

Those are the biggies, but there are plenty of smaller and equally innovative practices taking place in nearly every aspect of campus life. Student volunteers run a second-hand clothing store from one of the residence halls; the cafeteria has gone trayless and has installed a "Hydration Station" of filtered and flavored waters, meant to encourage students to carry reusable water bottles; and prospective students and their families sip beverages from ceramic mugs that encourage their users to "Think Green", referring both to the environment and to the school's colors.

Even the University's staff are doing their part: the grounds crew has abandoned the practice of blanketing the lawn with pesticides, opting instead to spot-treat areas when necessary; custodial workers have switched to machines and cleaners that use both less water and fewer chemicals; and 65 pairs of aging laundry machines have been replaced with energy efficient models that use much less water and less energy.

Although I did take one environmental science class during my undergrad years, I would certainly have taken more had they been offered. I might have even taken more science classes if the ones that most interested me didn't have crazy prerequisites (like surviving the infamous Bio 101). That this liberal arts school is now taking a liberal arts approach to the environmental sciences-- encouraging students in the program to complete coursework in biology, chemistry, political science, and anthropology-- pleases me to no end; I only wish I could have gotten in on the fun!

Revelations?

Is the sudden flurry of recent news reports on the "aflockalypse" keeping anyone else awake at night? My eco-insomnia started on New Year's Day with a chilling story of 5,000 blackbirds falling from the Arkansas sky, and it seems like every time I turn on my TV nowadays, there's another report of mysterious mass wildlife deaths. We're barely a week into this new year, and already we've got reports of species turning up dead in Kentucky and Arkansas and Sweden, in numbers of Biblical proportions. And it's not just birds; dead fish have washed up on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay, dead crabs were found littering a beach in Britain... what (or who!) is next?

So what's going on here? Is our civilization being punished once more with a series of plagues? Did the Mayans correctly predict the coming of the end of days? Or is there something to the many conspiracy theories floating around, warning of covert government operations and chemical/biological warfare testing and the like?

Even though I'm exhausted, my judgement isn't clouded enough to buy into any of these crazy conspiracy theories, and I suspect that the day after the Mayans say the Earth will end will be remarkably similar to January 1st, 2000 (judgement day for Y2K); surprisingly uneventful despite all the hype. Nor do I entirely believe the reports that are telling us not to worry because scientists have decided that the blackbirds in Arkansas were literally scared to death by New Year's Eve fireworks the night before. I am worried, and I don't think the real answer is as simple as the (sometimes conflicting) news reports would lead us to believe!

I resolved not to spend another sleepless night speculating about the disturbing events of recent days, but to instead try and find a more logical explanation. So I turned on the Internet, set my common sense filter to "high", and started searching reputable biological and environmental sites. And here is what I found: sudden mass wildlife deaths are nothing new, nor are they uncommon. The U.S. Geological survey actually keeps a running tally of all reported die-offs here. In fact, scientists believe the species-specific deaths are more common than even this chart shows (as they think most die-offs go unreported) and that the media coverage (not the deaths themselves) is the only thing that has changed in recent days.

In reading through this chart, I see that most of the species on this list are birds, but that the suspected causes of death vary. While trauma is listed quite frequently, so are a number of various diseases. And I know (even from my limited training in biology and ecology) that toxins/pollutants and loss of habitat are other contributing factors. That in itself should give us plenty to worry about; I read somewhere else that as many as one in six species of birds are in danger of becoming extinct!

What's more, animals often succumb to disease, pollution, and other environmental factors long before humans. Some scientists suspect that these dead animals are the "canaries" in our proverbial coal mine, and it's high time we stop and listen. Just as animals can predict and detect severe weather and instinctively know when to take cover, many human diseases start in wildlife populations (bird flu, swine flu... these aren't just cute names!). If we want to stop their problems from becoming our problems down the road, we need to work to protect the environment we all share; humans are not immune!

The beauty of biodiversity is that every creature plays a vital role. We may not know what purpose each species serves in relation to our own existence, but we don't want to find out after they're gone... Sweet dreams!

Meigs Field Now Bird Sanctuary

Northerly Island is, by all accounts, an enviable piece of real estate. Located just southeast of the Museum Campus, the peninsula was once home to a little airport known as Meigs Field, which met its now-infamous end back in 2003, when Mayor Richard M. Daley covertly sent a fleet of bulldozers to tear up the runways in the middle of the night, without warning the public or getting approval from any of the city's usual legal channels. Unapologetic in his actions, Daley cited only a concern that having an airfield so close to downtown posed a "terrorist threat", in a very-belated response to the September 11th attacks.

Although pilots and other aviator enthusiasts still harbor a great deal of resentment toward the mayor and his seemingly rash decision, it sounds like Northerly Island will soon become a permanent hub for winged creatures of the feathered variety.

In the years since the runway debacle, the Park District has already made great strides in beautifying Northerly Island. They have done a good deal of prairie restoration on the southern half of the peninsula, and erected the Charter One Pavilion, a 7,500-seat (temporary) concert venue to the north. This article in yesterday's Tribune details how architects plan to unveil green designs for a permanent concert facility (revenue from these concerts will help fund this project) and to restructure the old terminal building, by removing the walls (which have claimed the lives of many a migrating bird) and turning it into an open-air pavilion.

A more concerted effort will be made to turn the island, which is on the direct flight path of many migrating birds, into a bird sanctuary and hospital, while underwater rock formations will harbor many more species of aquatic plants and animals. I walked the length of Northerly Island earlier this fall, and despite a group of tourists on Segways, I found it to be a surprisingly peaceful place. I think a nature sanctuary is a great idea, and the views can't be beat!

Ding Dong! The Well is Dead!

Ding Dong!

The Well is dead.

Which oil Well?

The BP Well!

Ding Dong!

Macondo well is dead!

Scrub oil off the pelican's head,

pull trawlers along the Gulf Sea bed.

Coast Guard said the oil well is dead!

Say skeptics, "Where'd the oil go?"

Below - below - below.

Yo-ho,

let's open up the beach

and wring the booms out.

Ding Dong the merry-oh,

never mind the slick below.

Let folks know

Macondo well is dead!

BP

The well's been plugged but it's a pity,

Offshore drilling all had to be stopped.

Spillcam's off; we're not the enemy!

USCG

But we've got to verify it legally, to see

BP

To see?

USCG

If she

BP

If she?

USCG

Is morally, ethic'lly

Shrimpers

Spiritually, physically

Fishermen

Positively, absolutely

Tourists

Undeniably and reliably Dead

Adm. Thad Allen

As Admiral I must aver,

I thoroughly examined her.

And she's not only merely dead,

she's really most sincerely dead.

BP

This is a good day for Gulf dependents,

For all marine life, and their descendants

USCG

If any...

All

Yes, let the joyous news be spread

Deepwater Horizon's well is dead!

Stearns Quarry Wetlands

I learned of this ecological gem while waiting on the Roosevelt el platform, of all places. The CTA has TV screens at some of the larger stations that encourage passengers to explore different areas of the city by mass transit, by showcasing certain attractions near different el stops. Advertised as being just steps from the Halsted Orange Line station and bus hub, I hopped a train to the south side and spent a morning wandering through one of the Park District's newest open areas and wetlands restoration sites.

The site of this abandoned stone quarry lies just southeast of the Stevenson Expressway, but despite its proximity to such a major vehicle thoroughfare, the quarry is surprisingly tranquil. The topographical variation itself is reason enough to visit; the mound of unused land left by the site's previous industry is now a grass-covered hill, criss-crossed by paved pedestrian walkways, and the mining pit has been filled with water and stocked with native fish and aquatic plants.

The walkway into the park is lined with large stones, a reminder of what the land was once used for, and the water's source is at the site of the quarry's old well. It circles the well in a growing spiral trench until it reaches the edge of the pavement and meanders down the hill into the quarry pit below. Sedges and tall grasses have already taken root in the fertile soils lining the newly formed stream, and should be completely grown in by next summer. Although the fishing area is not yet open to the public, residents are already taking advantage of the open space; runners were tackling one of the largest hills in the city and families were picnicking atop giant boulders.

After I toured the wetlands, I briefly considered continuing south on Halsted to lunch in (and explore) the Bronzeville neighborhood, but was skeptical of the neighborhood that lay in between, so I (somewhat reluctantly) hopped back on the train and made my way north. Kudos to the Park District and the Transit Authority, however, for enticing me to visit a part of the city I wouldn't otherwise have considered!

Lincoln Park Nature Boardwalk

With the end of summer looming, I packed my camera, field guides, and water bottle and headed down to Lincoln Park to see the Nature Boardwalk, which opened in June. The park's South Pond had been under construction for more than a year, with bulldozers and backhoes tearing out the old and making way for the new, native ecosystem. About the only wildlife remaining from the old pond is a colony of endangered herons (in fact, construction was scheduled around their breeding season), as all of the non-native fish that had once called it home had to be destroyed (because it's illegal to release non-native species into local waterways).

The pond was filled and surrounded by regional vegetation and stocked with native minnows, bluegill, turtles, and other wildlife. Filtration systems were installed in the pond to keep the water's pH as close to a naturally formed pond as possible. An island in the middle of the pond and ledges under the bridges were meant to

encourage swallows and other non-aquatic species to take up residence as well.

As much as I enjoyed my stroll around the pond's perimeter, I think the habitat will be far more impressive in a couple of years.

The newly transplanted sedges, grasses, and wildflowers will need time to take root and grow tall enough to cover the ground, and once the vegetation is established, even more species will come to settle in this ecological sanctuary. It was definitely worth the el fare, though!

World Environment Day

Well, it seems like there's a day for everything-- National Donut Day, Talk Like a Pirate Day, and today, it's World Environment Day. The United Nations actually began celebrating this day back in 1972, so I'm almost embarrassed to say this is the first I've heard of it. I know about Earth Day in April and even Earth Hour in March, but what is World Environment Day?

With the tag line of "Many Species. One Planet. One Future.", the UN Environmental Programme boasts June 5th to be the "most widely celebrated, global day for positive, environmental action." Activities are meant to promote awareness, champion biodiversity, and spur individuals and communities to action.

On the local level, the Chicago Botanical Gardens has a whole schedule of activities planned to commemorate WED, including used plant container recycling, gardening demonstrations, kids' activities, and a farmer's market. We Chicagoans are always looking for a reason to celebrate, and today, the environment is reason enough!

If I Were President...

I really don't envy President Obama right now. Hundreds, thousands, or possibly millions (no one seems to know) of gallons of crude oil a day are gushing into the Gulf of Mexico right now, weeks after the Deep Water Horizon platform exploded and killed 11 workers, and there's no end in sight. People are scared and angry, myself included. We feel helpless because we don't know what to do, and many people want someone to blame.

While these feeling are completely justified, I'm afraid our anger is a little misdirected. Every time I see the live footage of that thick, nasty sludge spewing into the sea, I feel a bit nauseated myself. Many people are mad at the president for working with BP and for not making more of a presence in the coastal regions that have been most affected. And others want to channel their anger into a boycott of BP. Neither approach is going to bring about the solution we crave.

Yes, Obama has been relying heavily on BP for the solution to this problem, and all their hair-brained schemes to date have focused more on recovering their precious commodity rather than stopping the actual flow of oil into the Gulf. That makes me mad, too, but I realize the president has to work with them; their people are some of the only ones on the planet who have the knowledge and expertise to shut off this well. The president certainly can't don scuba gear and swim a mile down to the ocean floor with a wrench in one hand and a giant lid in the other and fix the pipe himself!

President Obama has spent a great deal of time meeting with experts and organizing aid and response; he has already deployed more than 17,000 National Guard to the Gulf, and has provided additional military vessels and equipment to aid in clean-up efforts. He is also pushing his clean energy agenda harder than ever, and although it isn't providing the instant gratification people crave, it is the best long-term solution to ensuring that a tragedy like this doesn't happen again. Much more aid is on the way to Gulf residents, but the seemingly slow response isn't apathy on the part of the president, it's because of our tri-cameral government. If you want to be mad at a president, direct your anger toward our forefathers, who designed this system of checks and balances and bureaucratic red tape that is holding up the Federal aid package.

Equally ludicrous is the small but boisterous movement to boycott BP gas stations. This is ineffective for a number of reasons. In the short term, the only people a BP boycott will hurt will be the local gas station owners and workers, most of whom are not even directly affiliated with BP. Also, BP gasoline is sold under many names, not just British Petroleum. Who knows where Huck's or Meijer's or Sam's Club gets their gasoline? And ultimately, if a boycott of BP were to succeed, the company could potentially go bankrupt. This would be the worst outcome of all, because they would no longer have to pay to clean up the enormous mess they've made. We're the ones who have created such a high demand for gasoline; we the people of the U.S. of A, making up only 2% of the world's population, use more than 20% of the world's oil. We're the ones who want the oil, and it has to come from somewhere. Our best revenge would be to reduce our individual consumption, thus making the need for deep sea drilling unnecessary.

That said... If I were president, I would acknowledge peoples' feelings of heartbreak, helplessness, and outrage, and channel those emotions into clean-up efforts and other solutions. I would highlight environmental non-profits that are already in the marshes and on the beaches that don't have to sift through the same bureaucratic bull sh*t that the government does, and encourage people to donate or volunteer. I would demand that BP hire any out-of-work fisherman, shrimper, or oyster trawler with a boat who wants to pull a skimmer or lay out booms or shovel tar balls off the beach, because I guarantee you there is no one on this planet with a more vested interest in getting this spill cleaned up than those whose livelihoods depend on the waters of the Gulf. I would insist that all the aid and relief workers-- military and civilian alike-- stay in the hotels and eat at the restaurants that have been hardest hit to keep the local economy afloat.

In short, I would try to turn this nation's anger into action. We can sit around and be as angry as we want, but if all we do is sit around and kvetch nothing will ever get done. Unfortunately, I won't be eligible for the presidency until 2016 (so save your votes!), but I can encourage everyone I know to be part of the solution, which will empower us all to deal with the problem.

BP logo image: © BP p.l.c.

Happy Earth Day!

Happy 40th Earth Day, y'all! Did you know that 20 million people celebrated the first Earth Day? Or that the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), the Occupational Safety and Health Agency (OSHA), and the Clean Air and Clean Water Acts were all "born" the same year?

1970 was a landmark year for environmental awareness, but sadly, we're still facing many of the same problems we were 40 years ago. All this talk we hear in the news on building more fuel-efficient cars, reducing our dependence on foreign oil, and reducing our energy use and waste production... that's nothing new. As times changed (and fuel prices went down) these eco-friendly ideas became less urgent. Let's not make the same mistake this time around!

So here's to making the next 40 years even better than the first... how will you help? Celebrate Earth Day by doing something as simple as planting flowers, picking up garbage, or recycling old electronics. Or you can join forces with like-minded folk and help spruce up a park or clean up a portion of a river bed or lake front. Every little bit will help!

Living Downstream

Sandra Steingraber, ecologist, cancer survivor, and fellow Illinois Wesleyan (and U of M) alum, made the University's news page today because a documentary has just been made about her book, Living Downstream. I took a May Term class with Steingraber back in 1997, right after her book had been published. The ecology class focused heavily on her area of research, which linked environmental contamination (toxins that include chemicals, heavy metals, and industrial and agricultural wastes, to name a few) to cancer. And, quite frankly, it was fascinating.

Steingraber first became interested in the environmental causes of cancer when, as an IWU student, she was diagnosed with a rare bladder cancer at age 20. Casual onlookers could attribute her disease to bad genes, because her mom developed breast cancer in her 40s, and an aunt had died of the same type of bladder cancer with which Steingraber was diagnosed. But she was adopted; genetics had nothing to do with it.

When Steingraber began researching this book, she collected a great deal of already-recorded data, which had just been made available to the public under the newly passed Right-To-Know Act, and started connecting the dots. She grew up in central Illinois, just like I did, but she lived in a rural town along the Illinois River. With her home town being as small as it was, it seemed like a disproportionate number of its citizens had some form of cancer. So she made her way "upstream", so to speak, and identified industrial waste dumps, agricultural run-off sites, chemical incinerators, and coal-burning facilities as the sources of the toxins that wound up in the water of her town downstream. Because none of these things are unusual to find in the Midwest, further research revealed just what she suspected: her town was not unique.

Yes, her book is full of the names of various chemicals and contaminants that have found their ways into our food, water, air, and soil. But by intertwining this scientific data with her personal story of cancer and survival (as well as a clear and concise writing style), she makes years of intense research (or scientific gobbledy-gook, to us non-brainiacs) not only palatable, but relatively easy to understand. Critics, doctors, and environmentalists alike have hailed her book as "the Silent Spring of our generation", but let me assure you... having read both, Steingraber's novel is a much more enjoyable read.

On the first day of class, Sandra Steingraber used a parable to depict the backwards way in which we are going about treating cancer patients. She told the story of residents in a small town who noticed more and more people getting caught in the current of a nearby river and drowning. The townspeople invented all of these pricey and elaborate ways to rescue and resuscitate the drowning victims, but no one thought to venture upstream to stop whoever was pushing these victims into the river in the first place. And so it is with environmental contamination.

More than a decade later, the specifics of this class are a bit fuzzy in my head, but I know for certain that Steingraber's passion and enthusiasm for her work is what first got me interested in matters of nature and the environment. I also remember learning about Maximum Contaminant Levels (MCLs), or the amount of each chemical that is allowed to remain in our drinking water. Anything at or under these levels is considered to be safe... more or less. There was an MCL Cafeteria in my hometown at the time, which I thought was a surprisingly inappropriate name for a restaurant. If any of those stores still exist, do yourself a favor and eat somewhere else... unless you know for a fact that MCL stands for something else. Yikes!

My take-away from this one-month course, which involved more reading, studying and research than any other class I had taken before (or have taken since), was that we can greatly reduce the number of "suspected carcinogens" (cigarettes were "suspected carcinogens" for decades before the Supreme Court passed their definitive ruling on the matter, which has upgraded them to plain old carcinogens) in our environment if-- and only if-- we make a fundamental shift in the way in which we dispose of our waste and operate our businesses, both in the industrial and agricultural fields. Regardless of what the news tells us, we can't avoid these environmental contaminants just by individual lifestyle changes; change has to come from upstream.



Here is the schedule of upcoming screenings of her film. If it comes to your area, I strongly encourage you to go see it. You can thank me later!

Asian Carp Video

Guess what, everybody? I finally figured out how to upload video content to my blog! Huzzah! This is a short clip showing just how gross and nasty these Asian carp can be, which I tried to include in a previous post but failed. So watch the video now, and remember to watch your head the next time you're out on the river-- yuck!

So Sue Us!

Oh, wait. They already did... the rest of the Midwest, that is. Michigan started it, slapping the State of Illinois with a lawsuit to stop the migration of the Asian Carp toward Lake Michigan by closing the locks on the Illinois Sanitary and Ship Canal. If you recall, this waterway was the site of a massive fish kill last month, an attempt by the Department of Natural Resources and U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to keep the dreaded fish from swimming past the electrical barriers (a device that emits underwater shock waves, designed to keep these fish downstream) while they were shut off for some routine maintenance.

Michigan's governor, Jennifer Granholm (who I actually like-- she was governor during my time in Ann Arbor) launched the initial suit against Illinois, while Indiana, Ohio, Minnesota, and even New York were quick to jump on her legal bandwagon. Our attorney general, Lisa Madigan (who I also like-- she lives in my neighborhood!) argued that the case was misdirected, because the Army Corps of Engineers, and not the State of Illinois, operates the locks on the canal. If Michigan wanted to sue somebody, it should be them.

Bloggers and reporters have been all over this issue since news of the lawsuit broke about three weeks ago; some claim that Daniel Burnham (the guy who, among other things, had some say over reversing the flow of the Chicago River) is spinning in his grave, while others suggest that Michigan should sue the carp themselves for trespassing. I have no desire to get snarky about the matter; we need to do everything we can to protect the Great Lakes, but crippling the state's shipping industry is not the answer! And for the record, when it comes to lawsuits pitting the environment against industry, industry wins out the vast majority of the time. We need another approach.

That's why I was so happy to hear today that the U.S. Supreme Court refused to hear the case, bumping it back down to the state courts. Something needs to be done, but we need scientists-- not lawyers-- calling the shots here. Hoever, this comes at the same time that biologists are saying that Asian Carp DNA (although not the fish themselves... yet) has in fact been found in Lake Michigan, which is a very scary prospect, indeed. Although Michigan was defeated in this round, they are not deterred; they plan on taking their case to Congress, and are lobbying President Obama to force Illinois to cut off an arterial waterway (although I can't be certain, I'm pretty sure that's not his job...) So we certainly haven't heard the last of this story, but the drama continues to unfold.

"Poison Fest"?

Last night, a murder spree of Biblical proportions took place in a six-mile stretch of the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal near Romeoville, which is about 40 miles southwest of the city. The killing was both premeditated and indiscriminate, and the resulting carnage is staggering. I'm talking about a decision by the Illinois Department of Natural Resources to dump 2,200 gallons of rotenone, a toxin that is lethal to-- as some expert on the WGN morning news said (in his best movie trailer narration voice)-- "anything with gills". This drastic measure was taken to prevent the Asian carp from continuing their journey from the Mississippi River into Lake Michigan, which, for the Great Lakes ecosystem (and the commercial fishing industry as well) is a "doomsday" destination.

The Asian carp in question is more accurately known as the Bighead carp; of the five known species of carp in this country, all of them came from Asia. This includes the common carp, which was brought over in the 1830s and is now considered to be a native species. The Bighead carp (along with the Silver carp) were deliberately imported from Eastern China in the 1960s and 70s by catfish farmers and wildlife experts to improve water quality and to control aquatic vegetation. The problem is, these huge fish (with voracious appetites) escaped their enclosures in the 1990s (likely after a flood), and entered a number of waterways in this country, namely the Mississippi River. They're bottom feeders that reproduce freely, and they eat such a ridiculous amount of plankton that it disrupts the entire food chain, established long ago by the many species native to these ecosystems. These carp can range anywhere from 50-100 pounds, and they have an especially disturbing habit of responding to boat traffic by leaping out of the water and slapping their huge, scaly bodies into boaters or fishermen or skiers; a number of people have been injured by these giant, flying fish!

This is just one of many failed attempts to control one biological nuisance by importing a species that is not native to the area, which in turn becomes an even bigger nuisance than the pests it was brought in to control! I'm not in favor of indiscriminate chemical controls, either (like those deployed last night), but I'm afraid I don't have a satisfactory solution to the problem at hand.

So what is rotenone, exactly? According to this article from Reuters, it is a "natural poison that prevents fish gills from absorbing oxygen." It goes on to say that it is "used as a broad-spectrum insecticide and pesticide, kills fish and freshwater snails but does not harm other animals. It dissipates within two days, though authorities plan to introduce a neutralizing agent to speed up the process." More specifically, it is a natural pesticide derived from the roots of tropical and subtropical plants and is used in organic gardening, on household plants, and as flea and tick control on pets. The fish and insects affected by this toxin die slowly, but stop eating almost immediately.

Other sources (which I can't verify, so I won't list here) suggest that it may contribute to mammary tumors and changes in blood composition in pets that accidentally inhale or ingest the stuff, and may possibly be linked to Parkinson's Disease in humans who have had chronic exposure. The sentence that bothered me the most in all of my readings was:

"There is considerable controversy over the use of rotenone to kill non-game fish in water body management areas. One study found that the practice has a substantially harmful effect on biodiversity, in which several populations of the native fish showed negligible signs of recovering stocks, while populations of all exotic species are up."

Invasive species are bad-- I get that-- but the killing of any living creature (an estimated 200,000 POUNDS of dead fish are expected to be recovered within the next couple of days!) on such an expansive scale just doesn't sit well with me, especially since early reports have turned up only one big, bad carp and scads of good, native fish. Surely there's a better way... right?

Seeding the Clouds

When we woke up to a veritable snow storm on our last day in Beijing, having enjoyed pleasant 70-degree weather just the day before, I was baffled. I later learned that the clouds had been "seeded" earlier in the week, which supposedly induces rainfall. I didn't know what that meant. In fact, I hadn't even heard of this practice until it backfired on the first of this month, spoiling our last day of vacation, and causing an international stir by creating one of the earliest Beijing snowfalls on record. But it turns out that cloud seeding is nothing new, and when it comes to the controversial practice (to say the least!) of messing with the weather patterns, China is leading the way.

In one 2006 report, the Chinese government spends about $50 million (USD) a year in their attempts to control the weather. (Current estimates are as high as $90 million!) It is estimated that China sends cloud-seeding aircraft on roughly 700 missions per year, loaded with a comparable number of rockets and artillery shells that are filled with chemicals such as silver iodide and mixed with dry ice. These rockets are then shot into the atmosphere in hopes that the chemical particulates released will aid in the formation of water vapor, which will then fall to the Earth as rain.

Although China has had a moderate amount of success with this practice, bringing much needed rain to drought-stricken areas and helping to extinguish raging forest fires in remote regions of the country, the path that they are heading down is a slippery slope indeed. Rumor has it that they made attempts to ensure sunny, favorable weather for the Summer Olympics, which were held in Beijing just last summer, by using this practice to coax rainfall out of any potentially moisture-rich clouds headed toward Beijing, inducing the rain to fall prematurely so as not to ruin their moments in the spotlight. I couldn't find any proof of whether this worked, though, or if it's even true. The skies were sunny, sure, but Beijing has been suffering from a nearly decade-long drought, so the scientists' claims may be more arrogant than they are accurate.

So arrogant, in fact, that they've done it again; created an unseasonal snowstorm that has, according to an article published today, already killed 40. In China's defense, they're not the only ones trying to outsmart Mother Nature; weather modification experiments have been going on in Europe, Asia, and even the U.S. for more than 50 years. Proponents of this practice argue that the main chemical components of the rockets-- silver iodide (which is found in iodized table salt) and carbon dioxide (found in the atmosphere)-- are harmless. Everything has a toxicity level, though-- even water! And who's to say what the long-term effects may be from prolonged exposure to these chemical rains?

The Chinese, however, are unapologetic in their cloud-seeding efforts. It seems to me that they plan to advance their civilization as rapidly as possible, and will only deal with the consequences when they (inevitably) arise. I'm all for scientific breakthroughs and development, but there's a fine line between weather modification and playing God; if it's not done responsibly, they'll have to answer to Mother Nature in the end, and she's quite a force to be reckoned with.

Silent Spring: A Summary

Like any good tree hugger, I decided over the summer that I needed to read Silent Spring, Rachel Carson's "explosive bestseller" about the devastating effects of the chemical pesticide programs used during the 1950s and 1960s. I hear it referenced so often that I assume it's mandatory reading for entomologists, biologists, ecologists, and environmentalists alike. So I picked up a musty, crumbling paperback copy in a used book store one day and dove right in. I motored through the first couple of brief chapters pretty quickly, intrigued by Carson's answer to her own rhetorical question:

"How could intelligent beings seek to control a few unwanted species by a method that contaminated the entire environment and brought the threat of disease and even death to their own kind? Yet this is precisely what we have done. We have done it, moreover, for reasons that collapse the moment we examine them." (p. 20)

After that, however, things began to get very technical, very quickly. The book is structured as a commentary on a number of case studies done during the height of the indiscriminate chemical spraying era, from the late 1940s up to the early 1960s (when the book was published). Even though the jargon is kept to a minimum and most of the data is presented in layman's terms, it is a tedious and laborious read and I couldn't mentally process more than ten pages at a time. I aimed to get through one chapter per sitting, but with so much data crammed onto each water stained page, not even the chapters' blatantly incendiary titles (such as "Elixirs of Death", "Needless Havoc", and "No Birds Sing") could help me to maintain my focus.

As I slogged through the meaty middle chapters, I began to get an eerie feeling; it was both a sense of foreboding and deja vu. In case study after innumerable case study, while the locations, pests, and sometimes even the chemicals changed, the inevitably disastrous result was almost always the same.

When DDD was sprayed at Clear Lake in California to kill the gnats, the swan grebes died. When the hop growers of Washington and Idaho sprayed heptachlor to kill the strawberry root weevil, their crops died and the land remained unusable for years. When the U.S. Department of Agriculture sprayed dieldrin over Iroquois County, Illinois, to "eradicate" the Japanese beetle, the song birds of the region were wiped out within a matter of days. When DDT was sprayed in East Lansing to kill the gypsy moth and prevent Dutch Elm disease, the robins died. The list goes on and on, but the message is clear: saturating the country with chemical pesticides is bad... very bad. Got it.

Scientists came to discover that these poisons were stored in higher and higher concentrations as it worked its way up through the animals in the food chain. The initial spraying might not have killed a bug, for example, but it probably sickened an earthworm or a fish that ate several bugs, and in turn almost instantly killed a bird that ate several earthworms or fish. The birds that didn't die instantly were either rendered infertile or endured a long, drawn-out illness before the twitching and agonizingly painful convulsions set in that, after much suffering, ultimately killed them. And-- perhaps worst of all-- the programs didn't even work long-term.

What these short-sighted chemists and government officials failed to realize was that it's nearly impossible to eradicate a single species of pesky insect; those that survived not only reproduced at a much faster rate than their natural predators, but they became resistant to the pesticides more quickly as well, rendering subsequent sprayings ineffective. Without a healthy bird population to keep these insect populations in check, the pests' numbers can exceed pre-spraying levels in a matter of years (and sometimes months!) As Carson explains:

By their very nature chemical controls are self-defeating, for they have been devised and applied without taking into account the complex biological systems against which they have been blindly hurled ... (p. 218)

She continues:

"The really effective control of insects is that applied by nature, not by man. Populations are kept in check by something the ecologists call the resistance of the environment: The amount of food available, conditions of weather and climate, the presence of competing or predatory species, are all critically important ... [The second neglected fact it] the truly explosive power of a species to reproduce once the resistance of the environment has been weakened ... (p. 218)

Thankfully, the sprayings eventually stopped, but not before our soil and groundwater was heavily contaminated. I know many of these same pesticides are still in use today, albeit in much smaller concentrations. Still, the best way to fight a force of nature is still with nature itself. For in her final paragraph, Carson issues a harsh admonishment, warning that:

"The 'control of nature' is a phrase conceived in arrogance, born of the Neanderthal age of biology and philosophy, when it was supposed that nature exists for the convenience of man ... It is our alarming misfortune that so primitive a science has armed itself with the most modern and terrible weapons, and that in turning them against the insects it has also turned them against the [E]arth."

River Roads

With more than a year's worth of above average rainfall in the record books, my fellow Chicagoans and I have been dealing with a sharp increase in street flooding. In fact, it now seems that even a moderately heavy rainfall turns intersections into giant puddles (and sidestreets into swiftly moving streams) in a matter of minutes. It's quite common to see diligent homeowners on the street corners after a downpour, in their galoshes, jabbing a broomstick into the storm drains, hoping to loosen whatever is "clogging" the sewers.

After wading home through nearly a foot of water (thanks for the pic, Danielle!), rushing down the street after a monsoon-like rain-- in February-- I seriously considered investing in a canoe. Even the water-main replacement projects have done little to relieve the flooding! What most residents don't know, though, is that it's not a glut of fallen leaves that clogs our sewers, it's a problem that was intentionally created by the Department of Water Management. After the "great flood" of 1997, the city installed nearly 200,000 rainblockers, or intake restrictor valves, in neighborhood storm drains.

The purpose of these valves is to slow the amount of rain that enters the system. Like many older cities, Chicago has a combined sewer system, which collects both sewage and storm runoff. An influx of storm water into the city's sewer system forces raw sewage releases into Lake Michigan or-- worse yet-- into the streets or peoples' basements. Reasoning that flooded streets are preferable to flooded basements (no argument here), the city boasts that their rainblocker program was completed ahead of schedule and under budget, and at only a quarter of what it would cost to actually improve the sewer system.

What the city fails to mention is that this program is a "band-aid" for an actual solution that was started two decades before, that (like so many things in this city) is behind schedule and over budget-- the Tunnel and Reservoir Plan. Better known as "The Deep Tunnel" program, perhaps it would be more accurate to describe the project as out of money and far from finished. Begun in 1975, the program called for more than 110 miles of tunnels to be built under Chicago and its municipalities. These tunnels would then carry sewage and storm water to an appropriate number of reservoirs, where it would be stored until it could be properly treated and safely released.

While the tunnel system is nearly complete, the reservoirs (which were originally slated to be finished in 2015) are virtually non-existent. The result of which is, as expected, flooded streets and raw sewage releases into Lake Michigan. And while the EPA lauds Chicago for testing the water quality of Lake Michigan with such great frequency, the tests show unacceptable levels of E. Coli more than a third of the time, which leads to beach closures throughout the summer. When the red and yellow flags are flying, you really don't want to make that day a beach day.

My vote (not that it matters) is to dedicate a chunk of the city's stimulus money to finishing what was started more than 30 years ago, to reduce (and potentially eliminate) the sewage and flooding problems that have plagued this city since its inception. Until then, though, who wants to go swimming?

BPA Ban

On Wednesday, Chicago's City Council voted to ban baby bottles and sippy cups that contain Bisphenol-A, or BPA, becoming the first city in the country to do so, preceded only by the state of Minnesota, which passed a ban of their own just last week. BPA is a chemical that is used to harden plastics; it also lines some food containers. In 2007, independent researchers came out with studies that linked BPA ingestion to the eventual onset of diabetes, breast and prostate cancers, and a host of other problems caused by the general disruption of the endocrine system. The chemical reportedly mimics estrogen in humans, which in itself is cause for concern, and researchers concluded that infants and young children were especially susceptible. BPA ingestion occurs when foods or beverages are heated in containers made with BPA, as this causes the chemical to be released, and it is then leached into foods.

However, the FDA disagrees, claiming that its tests (purported by some to have been funded by the plastics industry) revealed BPA to be safe for human use. While I'm not taking sides either way, I do think that any evidence to the contrary should be more than enough to warrant a closer look. I do, however, question the need for a city-imposed ban. When the independent reports came out a couple of years ago, many manufacturers voluntarily pulled suspicious products from their shelves, and many more have retooled their manufacturing methods to produce BPA-free plastics. To insist that retailers sell only BPA-free baby products in our city seems a bit redundant. On the flip side, it could pave the way to a nationwide ban, which would benefit everybody. Back in the 1970s and '80s, for example, when California insisted that the vehicles in their state be held to stricter emissions standards than the federal government required, the entire nation soon adopted the standards set by California lawmakers, because manufacturers didn't want to produce two different types of cars.

And why only baby products? It's not okay for infants and toddlers to ingest this stuff, but kindergarteners get the green light? Who's to say that a baby won't still be exposed to BPA because they ate food that came from a can lined with BPA, which isn't marketed specifically for children, and is not included in the ban? And what about the rest of us? Are we just supposed to know better? For those of us who don't, if a plastic product has a recycling number 7, there's a very good chance that it contains BPA. I guess I'm not as concerned as I maybe should be-- I still buy canned goods, and have yet to replace my BPA-laden Nalgene bottle. On the same token, I don't heat foods in the can, and my Nalgene bottle has never been in a dishwasher, or a microwave, or left in the car on a hot day. So maybe I'm in the clear. Then again, maybe I'm not. And maybe this latest ban will turn out to be a good thing, or maybe it will go the way of the foie gras ban; only time will tell.

Earth Day 2009

I happened to be home this morning to catch Oprah's Earth Day special. I'll admit I tuned in more for the environmental aspect than the "O factor", as I'm still a little bitter about the tapings I was subjected to a few years back... which is a whole other story... but I actually learned something! So, I never thought I'd say this, but thanks, Oprah! I was devastated by the opening segment with Jacques Cousteau's grandson, Fabien, about the largest garbage dump in the world, the swirling patch of trash in the Pacific Ocean. Estimated to be twice the size of Texas, and up to 90-feet deep in places, marine animals big and small are ingesting, getting entangled in, and dying from OUR TRASH. They showed picture after heartbreaking picture of a turtle whose shell had grown grotesquely around a plastic ring it must have gotten stuck in as a baby, a bird who was trapped and dying under layers of plastic, and an entire cigarette lighter in the belly of a dead albatross.

I know we're a long way from the Pacific Ocean, but there's a mass of trash in all of the world's oceans, and whether we realize it or not, we're contributing to the growing problem. Trash dumped in area lakes and rivers is washed downstream to bigger rivers, and is eventually carried out to sea. So this Earth Day, consider joining forces with other city dwellers and spend an afternoon this spring cleaning up a vacant lot or fishing trash out of the Chicago River. The city's "Clean and Green" initiative has several events coming up in May, and the Park District and Forest Preserves offer similar volunteering opportunities. Just think, a plastic bag that is plucked from a river in Chicago could potentially save a fish that would have otherwise been suffocated by unwittingly swimming into it! Just go to the City of Chicago web site or be on the lookout for volunteer opportunities in your area. We can all help to make this Earth Day a happy one!

Daylight Saving Time!

I love Daylight Saving Time, especially in the spring. For me, the extra hour of daylight in the evenings is synonomous with growth, renewal, happiness, and all things summer. In fact, I consider the extension of Daylight Saving Time in 2006-- by moving up the start date by three weeks in the spring and delaying the end date by a week in the fall-- to be the single crowning achievement of the Bush Administration. I was surprised to find out, however, just how many people disagree with me. They argue that it's hard to get up in the dark and reset their internal clocks, to lose an hour of sleep, and even to lose an hour of drinking time at the bars the night the clocks change.

Although the idea of Daylight Saving Time started with Benjamin Franklin, in an essay written while in Paris in 1784, it wasn't seriously considered until Englishman William Willet took up the cause, lobbying to shift the clocks ahead a total of 80 minutes on four consecutive Sundays in April, and to reverse the progression by the same incriments in November. He began lobbying Parliament in 1909, and was met with much ridicule. He continued to fight for this idea of "Summer Time" until his death in 1915; the bill finally passed in 1916 and was adopted in the U.S. two years later.

The argument has long been that Daylight Saving Time (note it's not Daylight Savings Time, even though that sounds more grammatically correct) helps save energy because people are able to rely on natural light later into the evening. However, the advent of air conditioning seems to have negated these benefits somewhat, as people are instead using the energy to run their fans and window units longer than they might otherwise do. In fact, a study was recently done in Indiana (a state which has been a little slow on the uptake, only switching to DST at the request of the Bush Administration in 2006) that shows energy usage went up during the summer hours, which reinforced their theory that DST was useless. What the study failed to mention, however, was the climate trends and population growth from the years used in the comparison.

Whatever your position on the matter, I find it's easier to get up in the dark those first few mornings when I think ahead to the long, lazy days of summer, and the time spent outdoors in the evenings, when the kids can stay out and play until bedtime. It's much more depressing to me when the daylight goes away, when it's dark by the time I come home from work. And not even an extra hour of sleep can change that.