On a recent flight to Bristol Bay, I ran into a childhood friend. We caught up on news and I was pleased to learn of his many community projects. Most notable is a region-wide effort to explore innovative energy sources due to concerns over rapid climate change and skyrocketing fuel costs. We exchanged ideas about the environment and such proposed ventures as the Pebble mine and oil drilling in the Bering Sea. Being a lifelong resident of the region, he has a genuine concern about the changes these industries might impose. His furrowed brow showed that he has no intention of being a passive bystander to what could happen in his "backyard."
He then brought up a name I had forgotten -- Grandma Nicollett. Grandma Nicollett was an elderly resident of Naknek when I was a kid in King Salmon. A vision leapt off a memory shelf and I saw her brilliant, weather-worn face. All the area kids knew her as "Grandma" and laid claim to her. She exuded warmth and timeless wisdom abundant in those who embrace quiet, still moments when the universe pours itself into receptive minds. There are many people like Grandma Nicollett, but they are becoming harder to find as the noise of hurried, modern engagement drowns out their softness.
My friend went on to tell me how when he was a boy, he accompanied his mother and Grandma Nicollett berry picking. He listened to their conversations and remembers the many pearls that fell from Grandma's lips. She talked about ocean currents, marine life and "the little bits."
"The little bits" was what she called plankton. Her knowledge on the subject was impressive as she spoke of the tentacles of life that weave invisible seams binding the health of all marine species one to another. When bad things happen to "the little bits," it's a bad day for whales and then a bad day for those who depend on the whales.
This made me think of John Donne's poem -- "For Whom the Bell Tolls." It speaks of the passing of a human life. The impact on all of us is much the same as when a clod of earth breaks away from the continent and dissolves into the ocean -- the continent is the less for it.
As much as we would like to think that what happens in a patch of ocean or on some hillsides in Bristol Bay will stay there, the truth is that sooner or later the effects -- good or bad -- of whatever we do there will reverberate throughout nature's entire framework. Since people are part of nature, fouled rivers, bays and oceans pass their illnesses on to all of us. It's arrogant to assume otherwise. The communities of Prince William Sound know this all too well.
Mankind has legitimate needs and the natural world can meet those needs. If we can't live without all the goodies we extract from the earth, then we've got to be nice to the hand that feeds us. That's a simple fact. The challenge is to let go of the old mind-set -- we take and nature surrenders. We need to "borrow" respectfully, cautiously with foresight and integrity so future generations can enjoy nature's bounty. We're very intelligent when we want to be. Let's be intelligent about mining and oil extraction so ''the little bits" can thrive. Grandma Nicollett would tell you: if we don't, then none of us can thrive.
Lita Oppegard lives in Eagle River and works for a local airline.
By LITA OPPEGARD