Written By Fran Marscher

t’s a sensuous place, the South Carolina Lowcountry.

Smell the black mud. Taste the sweet oysters. Feel the sting of the salt spray. Listen to the squawk of the great blue heron. Watch the breeze play on the marsh.

A corner of the water-laced transitional zone between the continent and the Atlantic Ocean, the land that became Beaufort County is a collection of peninsulas, islands and hummocks, all flat and low. The estuarine systems, their creeks and sounds in constant motion, comprise more than half of the county’s territory of 700,000 acres.

For thousands of years, the power of the subtropical sun and the force of the moon-driven tides shaped the region. A few centuries ago, man began to exert his force on it. First, the Indians hunted the deep woods and fished its murky waters. Then the early planters cultivated its sandy soil. After the Civil War, remnant communities cut timber, raised crops and depended on the waterways for food, cash and transportation. From the small populations in those years, the changes in the natural systems, although obvious, were minor.

In the middle of the 20th century, man’s impact moved in like a tidal wave. Everyone wanted to “go down to the seas again.” Market forces joined the other forces in the region. Man paved the soft roads, built bridges, filled in swamps and salt marsh and marketed real estate across the nation and across the world. Dredges converted shallow creeks into boat basins. Bulldozers and chain saws tackled trees to make room for homes and hotels and stores and offices. Millions came to visit. Thousands stayed. The volumes of human sewage and commercial litter grew. Storm water filled with the residue of modern-day civilization—oil, grease, pesticides, fungicides, fertilizer, bacteria and viruses—flowed over the parking lots and rooftops and into the ditches leading to saltwater nurseries and shellfish beds.

By the late 1990s, the tyranny of what seemed at the time to be small decisions—a clear-cut here, a new ditch there, another parking lot, another dock, another wetland fill—was taking its toll. By the beginning of the 21st century, the natural environment desperately needed more allies. Smell the gasoline, feel the surge of traffic, watch the loss of trees, avoid the oysters under the yellow signs in polluted waters and hear the silence of former ibis rookeries.

How long will May River’s oysters be edible? How long will we see eagles nesting? Will children ever again be able to swim in the coves? Are the relics of once-great swamplands sufficient in size now to absorb rainwater and prevent flooding? Are we saving any live oak canopies? Any huge magnolias? Are the beaches of the future going to be sandy and beautiful or strewn with the debris of revetments?

To be sure, some safeguards, both mandatory and voluntary, have prevented blatant devastation of Beaufort County. In many fast-growing coastal regions across the Southeast, environmental damage in the last fifty years has been worse. The subtropical sun, and the moon-driven tidal currents continue to bring resiliency to the coastal region’s fragile systems.

And yet, the historical trail of environmental ups and downs barely hints at the kind of trailblazing important for future generations. A squawk from the marsh demands a reality check. In the coming age of enlightenment, we cannot continue to march through our natural resources. Instead, we must refine and build a culture of tiptoeing around them.

As we focus on environmental issues in The Bluffton Breeze Magazine, I feel the need to mention organizations such as, Friends of the Rivers (www.friendsoftherivers.com), an organization created to maintain a culture that will conserve the natural resources of Beaufort County through education and participation. The South Carolina Coastal Conservation League (www.scccl.org), an effective 15-year-old organization (offices in Charleston, Beaufort, Georgetown and Columbia). The South Carolina Environmental Law Project (www.scelp.org), a nonprofit law firm that also is effective in conservation issues.)

I suggest these mentions to bring attention to environmental organizations working locally on matters of great importance to the region and its natural resources.