Yes, that May River. The one in the picture above these words.
For all the many years that we’ve been coming to this part of the world, I’d heard about the May River. There seemed to be an aura about it. Almost a reverence. Whether or not you’d ever seen it or been on it, you knew in your gut that that there was something special about that river.
I never imagined that I would live on it or be concerned about its well being but both of those things have come to pass.
We’ve had the honor and the pleasure of living right here on the banks of the May River for five lovely years. During that time, we’ve seen the dreaded “D-word” begin to rear its ugly head. Development. Right here on the May River.
Longer docks. More people. Bigger boats. Brighter lights. More noise. Challenges to the ecology; to the ecosystem. Growth every which way.
The problem is, of course, like all beautiful and natural resources, the May River can’t grow. It was finite at its beginning and it will remain finite until the end. We’re asking the impossible of the river. Putting a pressure on it that it can’t tolerate or accommodate.
Some friends recently returned from an Alaskan trip. Among the many places they went and enjoyed was Denali, a world-renowned ecosystem. In a booklet about the park that they brought home and shared with us were a couple of thoughts that should be the motto for all natural resources…including small ones like the May River.
It states: “Denali straddles a fine line between use and conservation in hopes of inspiring us to love nature without loving it to death.”
I hope that we can bring a little of that Alaskan way of thinking all the way down to our South Carolina treasures. So, yoke up the Huskies. Mush! Times a-wastin’. Get on down here, Alaska, and help us out.