The Power of Water

Over the past few days, as I've suffered through home repairs, caring for a sick child, and a bit of writer's block, I've been contemplating the power of one of our most basic resources: water. We tend to take this simple fluid for granted, barely noticing it sitting in a glass on a restaurant table, or flowing out of the bathroom faucet.

Of course, all you need is a corroded washer, and all of a sudden, the water coming out of the faucet is more noticeable. (drip drip drip drip drip...) Soon, a little water becomes a destructive force. I noticed this as a leaky faucet in my bathroom, combined with a crack in the linoleum, caused a dampened sub-floor. Not only did this provide the perfect habitat for mildew, but reduced the integrity of the floor. So, one little drip just about caused one bathroom to cave in on another.

It might be easier to think of the power of water during hurricane season, or when tsunamis or floods appear in headlines. Even during the cold and "dry" seasons, however, water can take its toll on the landscape. Sometimes, it is a gradual process, as rains erode the hillsides, or rivers carve out canyons... but not always. As I saw in my bathroom, water can wreck havoc on a more immediate timescale.

Here in Colorado, we get to see water take its toll on our roads and homes. Water, in the form of snowmelt combined with clayey soils and temperature fluctuations, can literally crack the landscape. When the snow melts, it drains into the ground, saturating the soil, and filling in cracks and fissures in bedrock and asphalt. As the water re-freezes, it expands and widens the gaps. As the winter temperatures hover around freezing, the process quickly repeats itself, turning small pores in our roads into giant potholes.

Water doesn't necessarily need to freeze to reveal its power around here, though. In the Rocky Mountains, the water wears on giant slabs of rock, such as granite, or sandstone. Denver, on the other hand, sits on top of an ancient seabed. So, rather than resting on a solid base of bedrock, a large portion of the metro area lays atop a layer of bentonite clay. Bentonite, which any cat owner is probably familiar with, (it's the essential ingredient in clumping kitty litter) swells when wet. This is a cool property, if the bentonite clay is in your cat's box. Underneath your house or driveway, it is not so cool. One side swells, while the other side shrinks. Roads bulge, porches crack, and doorways tilt.

When we look at the amount of property damage a little bit of water can do, that simple flowing fluid suddenly seems more powerful than we thought. Now, here's a few questions: Can we harness the power of water? Can it provide sustainable energy? Can we do it efficiently, with minimal impact on our ecosystem? Will Colorado help lead the way? I think it's possible. But I'm going to wait until the next post to explain how.

All photos taken by the author.