The Gift of Water

as seen in the Marquette Monthly September, 2017
By GlenEllen Lehmberg

From the time I was very young, water and the Great Lakes have been important in my life. I grew up in Marquette on a quiet, beautiful street on the East Side, just a few blocks from Lake Superior. I was able to take advantage of living near the Lake, and I spent a lot of time at McCarty’s Cove, a popular beach for tourists and Marquette natives alike. I also canoed and swam in local lakes, and because of my close, life-long associations with water, protecting that water has become most important to me. We have only one life and only one water supply.

Since I live only a five-minute walk from the Lake in Marquette, it was weird to have spent my summer interning in in Washington, D.C., an area that is far from any beach, even though it is near the Potomac River. I lived across the Potomac, in Virginia, and I was able to walk across the river on a bridge whenever I wanted to visit Georgetown, a historical area with many restaurants and shops. The river environment is beautiful, and I wanted to swim in the Potomac, but because of pollution, this is ill advised. Now people only boat on the river. It was disheartening to learn of the pollution, and surprising too, having lived my entire life close to the crystalline waters of our Lake Superior.

The Potomac may be polluted, but Washingtonians and the city’s visitors know the value of water, and they hearken to it in places like the National Mall, where water—such a basic element!—is often incorporated into our national monuments. I’m thinking in particular of the reflecting pools on the Mall, how beautiful and still and calming they are, and of the two waterfalls incorporated into the gargantuan and impressive World War II Memorial. After the violence and chaos of war, the sounds and sights of moving water can work to soothe and calm and restore damaged spirits. We need water to keep the body alive; we need water, so say these monuments, to salve and restore the human spirit.

I am now a student at Michigan State University, which has one of the largest campuses in the country, with 5,200 sprawling acres. The Red Cedar River—less grand than the Potomac—is the divide between the north and south sides of campus. Daily, walking to and from class, I cross the Red Cedar River on one of three footbridges. It is a small thing to cross a footbridge, yet I find myself looking forward to these crossings. There is more life in me when I cross—more life in me because I cross. What is it about the sound of the wind in the trees, the sound of moving water? The Red Cedar River sustains my spirit, and I consider myself so fortunate to be able to cross it each and every day.

Each summer when I return home from college, I am able to go to some of my favorite places on Earth. Will it surprise you to learn that they are bodies of water? Each summer, during the same week in August, my family and I rent a cabin on AuTrain Lake, about 30 minutes from Marquette. We canoe the river and the lake in my father’s old aluminum canoe, grill shish kebobs and brats, and make s’mores. We go to Kitch-iti-kipi and Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. At Kitch-iti-kipi, there is a self-propelled raft that crosses the spring. From the raft, you can look down through a hundred feet of the clearest water imaginable and see water boiling up ceaselessly from an underground spring. We do pretty much the same things each year, and it’s one of the greatest weeks of the summer, visiting these old, old friends. There is nothing like spending a week on and near the water, and the older I get, and the more I see, the more I value the gifts of water, especially here in the U.P., and the more I want to preserve them for the generations to come.

WATER SAVER TIPS

Water only when necessary. More plants die from over-watering than from under-watering.

When running a bath, plug the bathtub before turning on the water.

“The Gift of Water” columns are offered by the Northern Great Lakes Water Stewards and the Cedar Tree Institute, joined in an interfaith effort to help preserve, protect, and sanctify the waters of the Upper Peninsula.