Waterworld
Roberts County landowners are battling to save the Ogallala Aquifer—and what remains of their agrarian past.
Roberts County landowners are battling to save the Ogallala Aquifer—and what remains of their agrarian past.
Citizens groups in Corpus Christi blame pollution for high cance rates—but they must prove it.
Unchecked growth of microscopic algae has muddied the water—and threatened the future—of Laguna Madre.
Making a clean sweep of Texas.
He invented the boneless breast and made his chicken a household name. But now his critics are out to roast him.
How a Texas oil company took a mountain of coastal muck and created a cozy abode for whooping cranes.
One of the world’s magnificent game fish, tarpon are back in Texas waters. Can we keep them from disappearing again?
When mountain lions started turning up, the Sierra Club said, “Save them!” Ranchers said, “No way!”
New York sludge is being spread across West Texas. Opponents insist it’s evil filth; others say the smell means jobs.
John L. Guldemann scorns claims that Longhorns damage the natural area.
THE SHOCK WAVES ARE BEGINNING to be felt from the Texas Water Commission’s decision that the Edwards Aquifer is an underground river—meaning that surface owners can’t use its water without a permit. Another state agency, the Water Development Board, was quick to dust off the old idea of transferring water
Beyond Beef blames cattle for the decline of civilization—not to mention famine, pestilence, destruction, and death.
With bulldozers poised to plow through their family’s historic spread, three San Antonio sisters are waging war against the state department.
Candelaria’s only well supplied free water to all until the EPA weighed in.
Trans-Pecos ranchers grapple with El Paso over the West’s most valuable resource.
Texans used to litter like crazy; now the state’s get-tough-on-trash policy is cleaning up their act.
Pipeline leaks, unplugged wells, toxic drilling materials, and a virtually unregulated oil industry are leaving a legacy of polluted groundwater.
“The heavens brought the rain, but Man brought the ruin.”
After rescuing hundreds of birds from horrible deaths, a Midland woman has finally gained an ally in her war on open oil pits.
Twenty years after the first Earth Day celebration, environmentalists are once again trying to get Texans interested in saving the planet. There are good reasons why they may once again fail.
To the people of Austin, the poisoning of an ancient tree was more than a crime; it was a blasphemy.
When the St. Johns returned to their house after having it sprayed for bugs, they discovered why those friendly pest-control people are called exterminators.
The saga of a man and his helpful insects illustrates the age-old battle between visionaries and bureaucrats.
Every day each of us contributes five pounds to the growing mountain of garbage. Now the mountain looks like a volcano that’s threatening to erupt.
Ranchers hate bobcats. Trappers love their pelts. Both parties have found that there’s more than one reason to skin a cat.
Cool, clear, and pure, it’s the bounty of the Edwards Aquifer, and if something isn’t done to limit pumping by Hill Country farmers and a thirsty San Antonio, it may also be dry.
The allure of Galveston Bay is not natural beauty but the determination of nature to survive ugliness.
Marine scientists have struggled for ten years to establish a new colony of ridley sea turtles on South Padre Islands. All their efforts may have been in vain.
A wet year followed by a dry one made for one hellacious brush with disaster in the ranchlands of West Texas.
The wettest spell in memory has given the people who live in West Texas an unfamiliar topic of conversation.
There’s one place where you can still find plenty of oil in Texas: the beach.
When southern pine beetles attack a Texas forest, there are only two cures: cut the trees down or let nature take its course.
In parts of Texas drought is a steady boarder who may stray but always comes home for supper.
An early castaway described Padre Island as “a wretched, barren sandbank.” It’s better known today as the Gold Coast of Texas, but its identity is still rooted in wildness and age-old solitude.
When Houston’s rich and powerful join forces with environmentalists to battle big corporations, they can be fighting over only one thing. Garbage.
The cattle are dying, the grass is gone, the ranchers are selling their land. The center of Texas is in a drought that may be the worst in a hundred years.
Texas’ beloved live oaks are falling victim to a creeping fungus, and no one knows how to stop it.
Gary Bradley, a hot young land speculator in Austin, was in the middle of a $50 million deal when he ran into an outraged environmental movement and a lobbyist with some powerful clients. The fight was on.
He’s Arthur Temple, Jr., ruler of a million acres of East Texas and the last of the timber barons.
Houston’s air may be a slow killer, but the state and the feds spend more time battling each other than fighting pollution.
Some people look at the Piney Woods and see paper plates and two-by-fours; others see the last great stands of forest in Texas.
From giant freshwater prawns to bikini-clad coeds, from ancient Indian artifacts to swimming pigs, there’s something for everyone on the San Marcos River.
In the southeast corner of Texas, more people get cancer than anywhere else in the state. Why?
Galveston has withstood tidal waves, hurricanes, gamblers, and tourists. Can it survive a superport?
Resort hotels and luxury condominiums line the shore of South Padre, yet foot by foot, day by day, the island is washing away.
The Lord giveth the beach and the developer taketh away.
A strip-mining company made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.
True to its own particular, relaxed style of life, Fort Worth was a late participant in the city festival field. For years, Tyler has held its Rose Festival; San Antonio, its Fiesta; El Paso, its Charro Days, and Austin, its Aqua Festival. Houston and Dallas have long since become too
As long as you're cleaning up the environment, start with your own body.