Last week, we loaded up the cooler with produce from the garden and zipped through the Central Valley heat and by some dead, waterless orchards to Berkeley, where my brother and his family live (and eat well).

The produce (green beans, snow peas, zucchini, jalapeños, plums and peaches destined for my favorite cook and Queen of the Kitchen sister-in-law who now knows the secrets to making her own bagels) is, frankly, the gift of water bought and brought from a long ways away to keep my garden green.

While the water for my garden probably comes from the Colorado River, other gardens and households in Southern California drink from the Bay Delta waters.

And that leaves many in Northern California to argue (with some good reason) “it’s ours, not yours.”

Driving on Interstate 5 through the 106 degree air and along the dry and scorched earth last week offered ample reminders of the struggle.

Some orchards are dry and dead with trees pulled from the ground and laid over in rows of twisted, gnarled limbs.

Still, many other farms are green and irrigated, heavy with crops. The canals of the state water project carry blue water south where it is pumped up and over the Tehachapis Mountains.

Strategically placed signs along the freeway urge the argument: “Congress created this dust bowl” — a simplistic articulation of one side of the argument between the politicians and various stakeholders, the courts, Central Valley agribusinesses, environmentalists, Delta farmers and nearby cities, and thirsty Southern California metropolitan areas, including San Diegans.

The Sacramento-San Joaquin River Delta covers 1,100 square miles and carries water from Northern California ultimately into San Francisco Bay — except, enough water to supply 25 million residents and 3 million acres of farmland to the south is diverted to head south into the San Joaquin Valley.

That, plus myriad other causes, has hurt the Delta and its estuaries.

In August 2007, a federal judge famously (or infamously, depending on your point of view) invoked the Environmental Protection Act to protect the Delta smelt, a 2-inch minnow, by curtailing the amount of water taken.

Subsequent drought triggered additional cutbacks, straining the valley agricultural interests and bringing the crisis to a head.

This spring, Gov. Jerry Brown proposed a comprehensive solution (baydeltaconservationplan.com/home.aspx).

The $25 billion Bay Delta Conservation Plan includes money for two giant, 38-mile-long tunnels to suck water from the Sacramento River upstream of the Delta and pump it into the canals at Tracy, where it would flow to the south. It also intends to restore habitat and protect threatened species.

But as with most complex issues involving scarce resources where nobody gets everything they want, the proposal has already drawn a flurry of lawsuits. (The environmental impact report will be released later this summer and that is sure to spur even more litigation and uncertainty.)

My brother and his wife live serenely on a hillside above the Cal campus.

From a comfortable rooftop patio, they enjoy stunning views that include the Bay Bridge, the downtown spires, Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge beyond and north to Sausalito.

This is the beautiful bay fed by the water flowing from the troubled Delta.

From that vantage point, it is not so hard to understand why keeping the whole system healthy and finding a way to share it for all means so much.
