Water. We take it for granted…especially in the Northwest.
Drop.
Drop-drop-drop.
Drop-drop.
Drop-drop-drop-drop.
By October, we really take it for granted.
Up at the Cedar River Watershed Education Center, the first thing I noticed—aside from the swath of lush green, rain-rich landscape past North Bend I’d been driving through—was the sound of the water drums. Half-hidden under overhanging young vine maples and other northwest plants, stately drums of various sizes receive a rhythmic cascade of raindrops that fall (cued by a sound design program) to the tones and beats of five different world culture rhythms that play in a subtle sequence.
The rain drums are the perfect accompaniment to the Cedar River Environmental Center, a set of buildings designed by Seattle’s well-respected Jones and Jones architects. Outside, covered walkways (easier to get around in the rain) shelter you from building to building, and the green roofs –not British Racing Green color—but a soft “green” (double-meaning) layer of mosses, ferns, and grasses speak of how well this building fits into and respects its environment.
Sue Rooney, our much-appreciated-just-departed-for-her-next-challenge Executive Director, had been urging me to come up here since I joined the Board of the Friends just a year ago. Finally, last day of September, a couple FCRW staff members, a few representatives of Brown Bear Car Wash (one of the Friends cherished supporters) and I came up for a tour. (A rainy day has a different tone for the car wash company; it means less people get their cars washed.) We were met by Ralph Naess, Manager of Public and Cultural programs for Seattle Public Utilities, who was going to give us a tour of our municipal watershed. But first, we went inside the building.
A huge 3D topographical display of the entire watershed—from the snows to the sound—dominates the interior of the exhibit hall. You can walk around it and see the dark greens of old growth forest areas, blue lakes, and the dotted yellow line that prescribes the official boundaries of the protection zone. It’s huge!
Our municipal watershed is a natural area of about 9,500 acres (143 square miles) owned by and protected by the City of Seattle (and how that came about is a fascinating story in itself that begins back in 1899). Our area is almost unique in having forest-filtered, pristine water flowing in our pipes for drinking, bathing, making coffee, floating bridges, returning salmon, running locks, or washing cars (in an environmentally-responsible way).
Outside again, we drove up to Masonry Dam, a dull name for a spectacular place, and then to the expansive Chester Morse Lake. Standing there, at the edge of that serene lak , the real meaning of the phrase “from the forests to the faucet” really takes hold. As does the importance of the work of the Friends to promote stewardship—and the partners, and the thousands of volunteers who take the time and make choices that make a difference.
I think about our “watershed address.” It includes the 14 major watersheds, 27 cities and 13 school districts that comprise the Cedar River/Lake Washington watershed. I came back with a renewed appreciation of my personal watershed address: McAleer Creek, which flows into the North end of Lake Washington.
And I think about our Executive Director Sue Rooney’s moving on. During her tenure, our organization has grown from 350 volunteers in 2006 to 1600 in 2010; and from 9 restoration events in 2006 to 42 events in 2010; and from 150 landowners reached in 2008 the first year of the Stewardship in Action program to reach a projected 600 landowners in 2011. (So, if you know of a dynamic, inspired leader with strong management skills—lead them to consider applying for the role of Executive Director.)
Our last stop on the municipal watershed tour was Cedar Falls, an awesome cascade of white water plunging down and around great grey rocks to a pool below. An amazing thing, according to Ralph, is that the water at Cedar Falls is a remarkable blue color because it is pure water. Yep, when water from the falls was analyzed by the City of Seattle’s water testing lab all were shocked to learn that this water was just that-water, and nothing more. As we were leaving, we felt the first drops. Ralph’s face lit up like 4th of July. “It’s raining!” More than a keen grasp of the obvious, Ralph was excited because the very next day, October 1st, was for the utility, the start of a new year—a new water year as the rains begin.
So, raise a glass and toast: Happy birthday, watershed! From the forest to the faucet—drop, by drop, by drop…
drop-drop
drop-drop-drop-drop…








