Flowing Downhill

The impacts of our actions — or inaction — is often felt far beyond our own circles.

Water from the lake I live on evaporates and rains down in places I’ve never been. Springs feed streams that empty into rivers that flow to the seas.

But in January, the bitter cold of northern Wisconsin feels as far away from any U.S. coastline as it could be, Lake Superior’s icy edges not included. The push and pull of the tides has as much impact on my day-to-day life as the great wildebeest migration across the Serengeti. There doesn’t seem to be any connection at all.

I read a story the other day about rising tides and the growing risk of nuisance flooding they bring. I highly doubt those tides will ever be lapping at my door, but their impact might be closer than I imagined.

Those impacts, naturally, go beyond eroding shorelines. If the tides do indeed keep rising, lower-lying coastal areas will be dealing far more frequently with flooded streets, damage to homes, schools, businesses and vehicles, and all the subsequent secondary effects that will bring — think school closures, loss of business and jobs, and massive infrastructure repair and replacement bills. And if coastal communities — nearly 40% of Americans live in coastal counties — are hit that hard, it would be foolish to think we won’t feel the impact everywhere else. Water might connect us all, but so do the economy, supply chains and transportation systems.

That supply chain piece, in particular, is a lesson that’s been driven home over the course of the pandemic. Problems in one area can quickly cause problems in another. Consider that more than half of all U.S. imports arrive by boat. What happens if the infrastructure in receiving ports is damaged by higher tides? What if streets and rail yards are underwater, and goods can’t move from port to their inland destinations?

What’s more, there’s a haze in my yard right now from forest fires well across the country. Legitimate forest fires aren’t really a thing in Wisconsin because it’s so green here in summer, but I can smell the smoke right now.

It’s important to recognize that we’re all part of a larger community that isn’t defined by municipal boundaries. Events on the other side of the country — or world — can bring their impact to your door. Likewise, events in your backyard can have far-reaching implications. Current events make that fact pretty difficult to ignore.

Maybe eliminating sewer overflows won’t garner thanks from people living 500 miles downstream from you, but you’re certainly impacting the health of their waterways and communities. Green infrastructure and other stormwater control measures won’t stop the rain in the next town down, but that might be what keeps the river from flooding to the point where homes are destroyed.

The point is that the work you do is important to your communities, but your communities are much larger than the local map shows. So is your impact.

Enjoy this month’s issue. 

Comments on this column or about any article in this publication may be directed to editor Luke Laggis, 800-257-7222; editor@mswmag.com.



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