— by Matthew Gilbert, Orcas Issues Reporter —

The origin story of most people I know – that is, how they ended up on Orcas Island – usually includes a respectful homage to the archipelago’s natural beauty, isolation, quietude, and topological diversity. The relative simplicity of small-town life is also frequently mentioned: “They even know my name at the Post Office!”

Well it may be time to start kissing some of that eco-hominess goodbye as the world we’ve grown accustomed to starts slipping through our hands. Orcas Island is at a tipping point. Which direction will we fall?

The dictionary definition of accommodate: to make suitable or consistent with one’s circumstances.

My local definition of accommodate: to lay waste to a quality of life through incremental improvements.

I’m hardly an old-timer – I’ve “only” been on Orcas (off and on, but mostly on) for a generation – but I still remember my first day here. Walking down a quiet street to the West Sound Deli; meandering by car along the curvy bi-ways of Horseshoe Highway, staring up at the mountains and out at the water. I could not believe my good fortune.

I still consider myself very lucky that the universe had the good sense to guide me here, but the times they are a changin.’ The genie is out of the bottle. The “secret” of Orcas has long been revealed and we may be standing at a precipice of an irreversible transformation.

It started out slowly at first. A few more cars, a few more driveways, a few more homes. Gradual change, a tweak here, a tweak there. But change begets change, and over the last few years—and especially over the last few months—its effects have noticeably ramped up and I can feel the squeeze:

1. Haven Road: Who would have thought that so many units could fit into such a small space … soon to pulse with traffic and activity.
2. The Port of Orcas: from dog parks and wetlands to hangars and asphalt.
3. April’s pasture: How much of the orchard will remain?

Like many here on the island, I also like to hike, to walk in nature, to be moved by its presence. We are blessed with beautiful lakes and scenic trails. But have you noticed how many new paths there are, branching out, making channels, cutting from one place to another, the shortest route between two points? Wider trails, more trails, our wildness keeps narrowing. Don’t be surprised to see a concession stand at Mountain Lake or motor boats on Cascade.

Not long ago a group of folks floated the idea of helping to address our affordable housing needs by turning Turtleback Mountain into a development. I simply don’t understand that kind of thinking. We do have a legitimate housing crisis, but imagine that island treasure sprouting roads and buildings, forever compromising that special view scape. Fortunately it didn’t happen, but only after considerable effort and angelic intervention. So instead we get in-fill wherever you look – better that than fallow lots or rural encroachment (if you ignore what some of it looks like). And for island visitors who are used to city living, pavement, lines, and traffic, Orcas is still an idyll with plenty of room to breathe. It can certainly accommodate a bit more noise, maybe even a traffic light! But however well-intentioned the efforts to channel growth or minimize its impact, something is being lost, again and again.

The arrival of Oprah – even at one degree of separation– presents us with the “crown jewel” of a certain kind of cultural legitimacy . . . and likely the end of another. As goes Oprah, so goes a big part of the rest of the world. And though the coronae of her impact here on Orcas remains to be seen, I fear (ultimately) the worst.

Washington’s Growth Management Act was less about controlling growth than accommodating it and that continues to be the case. Our population is increasing. The number of truly livable places in the world is shrinking. Our comparatively wet and temperate paradise is becoming a magnet for climate refugees. How much growth is it fair to accommodate and is it possible to draw a line? How far ahead do we need to look? What is our “carrying capacity” and how is that defined? There have been plenty of meetings and plans by well-meaning people with diverse agendas but common interests in preserving our “quality of life” (however that’s measured). But as someone said during a May gathering on the County’s Vision Statement, “Market forces will always trump the best laid plans.”

Despite all our “reasonable” efforts, I’m not convinced there is much we can do to remain good stewards and alter what feels like an inevitable course for our beloved island. Sure, compared to other places it will remain a choice destination and a cut above the rest. We are fortunate to be blessed with world-class festivals, networks of community support, locally grown food, two great markets, a vibrant library, and a new generation of creative energy, to name just a few. I suppose it’s time to adapt, to simply “get over it” and accept the future in all its imperfections. I’m still grateful to be here, this is still a uniquely special place. Maybe the gently intrinsic majesty of the island will endure. Maybe . . .

**If you are reading theOrcasonian for free, thank your fellow islanders. If you would like to support theOrcasonian CLICK HERE to set your modestly-priced, voluntary subscription. Otherwise, no worries; we’re happy to share with you.**