Skip to main content

Sweetwater

Sweetwater Wetlands Park:  mind you, I am not complaining!  It is water, and water is sweet in the desert, but sweet water it is not!

In plain fact, it is water from the sewage treatment plant for the city of Tucson, reputedly "treated", and released again into the wild, right in the middle of the city, into what we love to call The Santa Cruz River.

Most of the time, it is the only water in the Santa Cruz River where it goes through town, and for that reason, it is beautiful water.  Earth has been put in charge of reclaiming what had been taken into town and soiled.

It is only a few miles from our home, so this morning I drove to Sweetwater Wetlands Park to praise the gods of reclamation, who have called turtles and birds to help us remember what it rather was before grass-fed beef and beef-fed humans dug the earth for minerals, built a railroad, and ran the river dry.

Last week, when Geri and Dean were here for a lovely couple of days, we drove down to Madera Canyon, half way to the Mexican border, not far.  Madera Canyon is a crease in the earth, catching and funneling really sweet water down to the Santa Cruz River before it gets to Tucson, and where earth pulls the water down into her heart before it can come this far.  At Mission Xavier del bac where, three hundred years ago, Father Kino came and claimed he was in Spain, or what ought to be Spain, they built a mission because the river ran by.  The river is still there, but it seldom runs.

The river does run again, in Tucson, and while it is not sparkling blue, it sparkles still because it makes life possible.

 I felt a bit like Father Kino, myself, this morning, because I discovered something that has been there for a long time, but I had not seen it before.  If, like Moses, I could strike a rock and get water out of it, I would, or if, like Father Kino, I could call on the resources Spain stole from "Latin" America, I might whack away at stones in the desert, hoping for streams in the desert, but short of that, I am pleased with such Sweetwater as we have, west of I-10, at Prince.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them. ...

At the Last Game of Year 2017"

Just like in the Bigger Leagues: No balls and five strikes. Add caption "I suppose he had something in mind." "Lift it!  Lift your foot one inch!" "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go!" Faster than a speeding ball In the Hearts of His Countrymen There are body-parts that wear out, and mind-games that go, but Jerry's spirit is indominable.