Many of us ask ourselves that question, but before getting to the right answer we have to consider the best criteria to make this choice. Artificial wetlands surely look more attractive and practical than a big water treatment plant. The initial costs of a wetland are many times smaller than the costs of a water treatment plant. Why are wetlands still not considered as the primary option for water treatment?

Water output quality will help us clear things up. With the proper maintenance, a wetland can satisfy water treatment needs in almost all cases. But what if the wetland is not properly maintained?

There are many reasons for a wetland to be in bad condition. The plants could be very old, they might not be the proper plants for the wetland, plagues can damage their growth, or owners of wetlands may stop taking care of them. All of these facts are not small issues; to prevent damages to the environment, wetlands should be in the best condition possible.

Should we promote the use of wetlands? Yes, in local areas where no municipal sewage system is in place. However, they must be maintained regularly in order to function properly. The most important thing is that each property owner uses the wastewater treatment best suited for the property and site, as long as it treats nutrients as well as pathogens and reduces the amount of nitrates and phosphates reaching the aquifer and then the coral reef.

July 26 -- Mangrove Action Day

The mangroves are wetland forests growing between the sea and the land, helping to absorb sediments that may cloud the water and cause coral reefs to die. They have also been shown to absorb pollution such as heavy metals, thus keeping them out of the marine ecosystem. According to the National Forest data, Mexico has about 721,554 hectares of mangroves, which correspond to 2.1% of Mexico’s territory.

Mangroves help reduce the impact of storms and the forces of erosion, as well as help balance carbon emissions.
They are habitat for juvenile fishes and crustaceans such as lobsters, and are an important feeding area for wildlife.

Not taking action for their protection can cause severe repercussions in our lives. Avoiding deforestation and taking small actions locally to slow global warming and sea level rising can make a difference.

Plant a tree today!

Please report illegal mangrove deforestation and filling in of mangroves.

The following is an excerpt from the writings of Amanda Peacher, an environmental journalist from the United States who is volunteering with CEA this summer as part of her final master’s project. You can reach Amanda at amandapeacher@gmail.com.

My watch reads 2 a.m. when Armando, the "turtle man" says we will stay on the beach for only another half an hour. It's my first night working as a tortuguero, or sea turtle volunteer. We start gathering our bags at 2:27, when Armando's lean silhouette appears in the darkness. "Tortuga," he says. We immediately perk up. Armando goes to get a closer look, and when he comes back, he says something in Spanish that I can’t understand.

"Es la misma?" I ask one of the other volunteers, for clarification.

"Sí," she says. This green turtle has returned for the third time this night---the other two visits were failed nest attempts. While we wait until it's safe to approach the turtle, Armando explains to me the difference between loggerheads and green turtles. Loggerheads are bigger and more powerful, but green turtles are more graceful, he explains.

"I think of a football player when I think of the loggerhead," he says, "and I think of the green turtle as a ballerina."

Carefully, we crawl up behind the enormous green turtle, watching as she finishes the cavity for the eggs. She stops digging and her body heaves slightly. Armando leans forward with his red-filtered flashlight pointed at her tail. The first egg looks like a slimy ping-pong ball as it drops into the sand. I catch myself gasping. More eggs follow; I watch more than 30 before I stop counting. The turtle's body seems to pulse gently, almost in time to the waves behind us.

Female turtles enter a sort of trance when they lay their eggs; biologists believe that it's nature's way of ensuring that they don't stop midway through. Nothing can bother them at this point. Armando and a few other volunteers measure the turtle while she lays, and make note of any scars or other markings. She is 110 centimeters long.

It takes the turtle only 15 minutes to lay about 130 eggs. When she's done, she comes out of the trance-like state. We leave quietly so we don't bother her while she buries her eggs. I lie on a lawn chair and watch as she flings sand behind her with her flippers. At 3:30 a.m. we see her pulling herself up and out of her nest; we all sit up from our lawn chairs and watch.

She travels six or seven feet, and then stops. "Está cansada," says Armando. She's tired.

"Pobrina," says one of the volunteers. After a little rest, she lugs herself the rest of the way to the waves and, in a moment, she's gone.

We mark the nest with a sign that says "Nido de Tortuga---No tocar!" and then stumble home. By the time we make it back to the CEA office, it’s 4 a.m. We dump the sand out of our shoes and give kisses on the cheek goodnight.

Armando looks at me, his deep wrinkles more intense now that we're back under light. "It’s a good first night?” he asks.

"Sí," I say, trying to think of something more poetic to say in Spanish. "Especial," I say dumbly. "Muy especial."

This excerpt was translated by Rose Rosquillas. Thank you, Rose!