A reflection of life in the last days of Empire, mid-fracking, mid-pipeline America in the opening decades of the 21st century.

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Here's the thing:

Every morning right after I wake up I take my dog Duff for a long walk. This is always my time to think, to clear my head, to reconnect not only to myself, but to the Earth.

It's cloudy and raining today, but unseasonably warm. Because of the overcast there was no striking sunrise today, but even through the clouds and the rain I could feel the Earth warming as the sun came up.

A breeze was blowing gently from the northwest so today I could hardly smell the odor of the water-treatment facility just a few blocks from where I live. It's an aggressive sort of smell, a combination of unknowable chemicals that hangs in the air, somehow sweet, like artificial fruit. It's now owned by American Water--PA. Council borough sold our water to them about three years ago. We don't own our water; it was bought and now it's sold back to us.

Again this week the water from my tap smells funky, like mildew on oily rags. Sometimes when I drink it, there is a moment when I have to tell myself to swallow because my mouth tells me to spit it out. But the scent and odor are usually very faint and you get used to it. This morning when I boil the water for my coffee I can smell the odor in the kitchen, but boiling seems to get rid of the taste.

I live in northeastern Pennsylvania, just a few miles from Dimock, PA, ground zero for Josh Fox's documentary "Gasland." I know people whose farmland has been destroyed by fracking, whose water is flammable. I know neighbors who don't talk to each other anymore, and families that have been pulled apart due to resentment that one or the other made a much better deal with the oil companies. Some people only got a couple of thousand dollars and others made hundreds of thousands.

There are no fracking pads that I pass on my morning walks, but a short drive in almost any direction will take you past at least one.

I think about what I've learned recently, too late to be of much help, that as of 2015 there were an estimated 1.5 million fracking wells in place in the continental United States, and that each well used an average of 2.8 million gallons of water that was mixed with sand and up to 1,000 different chemicals, about 240 of which are known to be poisonous or toxic. It was then pumped under high pressure into the bedrock, into the aquifer. I walk past a big puddle that forms in the alley behind my house whenever it rains. I stand there this morning, as I have many times before, and watch the puddles percolate from the gas seeping up through the Earth. If you listen closely, they pop with a happy sort of sound.

I think about that as I walk Duff, that under my feet the water has been poisoned.

To the north, just outside of town, a little too far for me to see, is the scar from a pipeline they put in about two years ago. It runs right under the Stillwater Dam, an embankment dam on the Lackawana River, which feeds the Susquehanna River. It crosses Route 171 and then winds its way up a steep high hill, the trees all clear cut and hauled away. There was a lot of excitement, when news came that they were putting in this pipeline. There was a lot of talk about all the jobs it would bring. I live in one of the poorest counties in Pennsylvania, and a job, any kind of job, means a great deal to people here. This is a dying little coal town, and Main Street is mostly filled with empty storefronts, businesses that have gone belly up. Most of the people I talk to on a daily basis are unemployed, living on welfare and food stamps. And then there was a lot of anger and resentment when we found out that most of the crew was from Texas, transported up here to get the job done. There were some jobs, menial labor, some truck driving, a couple of weeks' worth until the pipeline moved far enough away that they started replacing our locals with other locals in new places.

About 8 miles to the south another pipeline is being installed right along Route 6. Nobody mentions it, except to complain about how it's impacting on the traffic. Just last week a pipeline owned by Sunoco leaked over 55,000 gallons of gasoline into the Susquehanna River, endangering the water for 6 million people down stream. I've mentioned it to neighbors and they haven't heard about it. Local media hasn't mentioned it. I talk to neighbors about things I've just recently learned, too late to be of any help, about how as of 2015 there were an estimated 2.5 million miles of pipeline already installed in the continental United States, all of those miles of pipe involved in transporting crude or refined oil or natural gas. I tell them about how there have been over 3,300 major leaks since 2013, about how just last weekend there was a major leak in North Dakota, and how a pipeline in Alabama blew up just a few days ago. They haven't heard anything about any of that.

And this morning, during my walk with Duff, I think about what's going on at Standing Ridge Sioux Reservation. For the last week I've been watching live feeds of how the police, private security hired by the owners of the Dakota Access Pipeline, supported by the National Guard, airplanes, helicopters, military-grade humvees, and LRAD equipment have been treating the Indigenous people. They've been harassed, intimidated, maced, gassed, shot at with rubber bullets, dragged away from prayer ceremonies, their teepees and tents pulled down. They've been arrested and strip searched and been held in dog kennels. Journalists have been arrested and their equipment seized. All because they're trying to protect the water, and their sacred land, and that ceded to them by the Treaty of 1851. I think about President Obama's announcement yesterday that he's going to "let things play out" for several weeks.

I walk and I think of things I've just recently learned, too late to make any difference. Like how Energy Transfer Partners (majority stockholders in the DAPL) are facing a partial-completion deadline in order to get the next amount of funds released for continued construction. The loan is structured just like a construction loan, with the payments made in installments as proof of completion is provided. In order not be in default, DAPL must complete certain sections of the pipeline by certain dates. The deadline for completion of this leg of the DAPL just happens to be December 31 of this year. Allowing this situation to play out assures DAPL will complete this leg of the pipeline, so that they qualify for the next installment of the $3.8-billion-dollar loan. But it ignores the question of the legality of the construction on land ceded to the Sioux Nation in the Treaty of 1851. The question of the legality of the use of eminent domain for a pipeline and the question of the legality of the use of Section 12 by the Army Corps of Engineers when permits were granted. Well, the media never mentioned any of this, not before the announcement, and not in conjunction to the announcement. I think about how President Obama said the Army Corps of Engineers is considering rerouting the pipeline, but how he doesn't mention the fact that if the pipeline is rerouted it will be AFTER this section of pipeline has been installed on Native land, AFTER it is has crossed the aquifer, and AFTER it has been tunneled under the Missouri River, which feeds the Mississippi, which combined threatens the water for over 18 million people downstream. I think about what that means, that we'll allow illegalities to continue, for now, until the pipeline is completed, and how rarely our government prosecutes crimes committed by the wealthy. I wonder, will we have another speech about letting the past be the past and how we must now look to the future. Will it be President Obama, or his predecessor? And will whoever that is change anything? I think about how he and the media didn't mention that the original route took the pipeline through an area north of Bismark that is predominantly white, predominantly privileged and how there was no problem when that community protested to protect their water. The pipeline was quietly rerouted, no state of emergency was declared, no police or National Guard were called in. No one was gassed or intimidated or arrested. I wonder, even if it is rerouted, what other communities will dare to oppose it? I talk to my neighbors about Standing Rock. They say that's a long way from here. They're poor and angry and just trying to make it another week, another day on welfare and food stamps and under-the-table less-than minimum-wage jobs. They say it's not our battle, it doesn't affect us. I guess we missed our chance when they came to frack. We missed our chance when they laid the pipeline. We've given up, and that new pipeline out along Route 6 is just an inconvenience. I walk my dog in the light rain, unseasonably warm it is, and I smell the air, think about water.

Authors Bio:
Lee Burkett is a proud member of The Screen Actor's Guild and a writer/activist.