When Protecting Wildlife Gets Personal

Last winter, however, storms breached the bulkhead that keeps the water from encroaching on my mother's house. By spring, the double row of wood pilings stood gaptoothed. The pilings were whittled to matchsticks by waves and debris. It was clear the bulkhead would have to be replaced before the bank eroded entirely and my mother's rose garden lay on the beach.

At the time I thought the hardest thing would be finding the money to make repairs. What I didn't know was that we might not even be allowed to make them. Since many Northwest salmon have been identified as endangered, construction that disturbs the beach is prohibited between March and June--the time of year when salmon fingerlings find their way seaward. In Washington state, the Department of Ecology has proposed a regulation that would keep new bulkheads of any kind from being built under most circumstances. Even now I have been told that unless my mother's property can be exempted from federal jurisdiction, we can expect our petition to replace her bulkhead to be refused.

Like the tide, I am tugged in two directions. My mother is depending on me to help preserve her home and her future. At the same time I worry about the salmon that are unable to spawn because of degradation of streams by logging, by dams on the rivers--and bulkheads on the beaches.

It was easier to rally for cleaner water, for protection of wildlife, before it got personal. I believe none of us are exempt from caring for the environment, but how can I sacrifice my mother's well-being? I hope for a miracle--a solution that provides a safe haven for salmon, a safe home for my mother.

MILLER LIVES IN PUYALLUP, WASH.

© 2000