Editor:
In Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, I noticed that every morning a worker hosed the walkways clean. I vaguely wondered where the water was coming from. Later, I learned from a local English newspaper that locals had two hours of water per day – when all the systems worked well. Some days there was no water.
Cabo was once a little fishing village. Now it’s a playground for tourists.
Gibsons was once a little fishing village. A fleet tied up at the government dock, and my dad joined the other men regularly fishing in “The Gap” before heading home after work.
I understand that things change. The mill came. It brought another kind of prosperity – and the daily fishing and frequent shellfish-collecting expeditions disappeared. The population grew, and we got other blessings like water restrictions, something I don’t even remember from 26 years ago when I bought my first house, and something that certainly didn’t bother us when I was a child and we were slower-paced and closer to our environment.
I wish we were seriously considering how to collect winter rainwater from our roofs, enough to keep our kitchen gardens feeding our bodies and our flowerbeds feeding our souls. I wish we were considering how to divert our grey water so I didn’t have to haul bath water out to the garden by hand.
And I absolutely wish we were not seriously considering building a water-guzzling monstrosity on our precious waterfront when we clearly do not have enough water for present needs. Yes, this is an unusual year, but based on what I’m learning about how our climate is changing, this year is about to become the norm. How long before we get two hours of water per day while tourists line our waterfront and have their walks washed every morning?
Audrey Owen, Gibsons
