I walked through the woods, on a path that ran close to the Ammonoosuc River. It was early spring, and the tree branches held hundreds of new buds. As I walked, I searched for small vernal pools. I was looking for Blue Spotted Salamanders. The rare and endangered species were known for burrowing in moist soil in early spring to lay eggs, and I was eager to find one.

I had seen only one. It was when I was around six years old. I had been playing in the woods behind my house, in a pile of leaves. I´d kicked some damp leaves aside, and noticed the salamander. She had been small, about ten centimeters, with a black body and blue spots. The salamander had quickly scampered away, but since then I was obsessed. That was twelve years ago. From then on, I learned everything I could about them. I took out books from the library, and spent hours searching about the animal online.

Blue Spotted Salamanders are found in New England, and sometimes Canada. They´re nocturnal animals. They spend all day hiding in damp places, and they only come out during the night to eat. With their coloration, and how much time they spend hiding, Blue Spotted Salamanders are hard to find. They are also hard to find because they´re endangered. Loss of wetlands and forest destruction leaves limited habitat for them, and they started to die off. Now, it's nearly impossible to find one.

But I´m going to find one.

I chose to come to this trail because a few years ago, someone spotted one here. They were able to get a picture. After looking into it, I came here. Salamanders return to the same place every year to breed, so if I have any chance of finding a Blue Spotted Salamander, it's probably here.

I walked down the path, scrutinizing the ground in case I came upon one. The sun had set about half an hour ago, and the sky was darkening quickly. I turned on my phone flashlight and turned it down to the dimmest setting. The small beam of light coming from my phone illuminated only a foot ahead of me. It was hard to see, but I didn't want to scare away any salamanders with the light. I could hear twigs breaking, and every now and then I saw a squirrel run across the trail.

About twenty minutes later, I reached the end of the trail. I had not found a salamander. I was going to turn around, but I knew there was one more place to check before I turned back. A few hundred yards in past the end of the trail was a small pond. The salamander that had been photographed had been spotted there. I maneuvered through the trees in the direction of the pond. Every step I made was loud. Twigs snapped under my weight, and the dead leaves on the ground rustled. I was pretty sure that any animal within a hundred mile radius had heard me.

By the time I had reached the pond it was completely dark. I could hear animals moving all around me, but I couldn't see them. I came to the pond edge and knelt down. Putting my hands into the moist soil of the bank, I moved the rocks aside. When I shone my flashlight on the uncovered spot, all I saw were worms. No salamanders. I searched the whole pond. There were no Blue Spotted Salamanders. I sighed. I had expected to find one.

I was about to turn and go back to my car when I heard something. Or rather, nothing. Every animal that had been making sound around me had stopped. The woods were filled with an eerie quietness. My first thought was that I had scared them. The only reason animals stopped making noise was because there was a nearby threat.

And then I heard the humming. It started out very low, but slowly the sound grew. In a few minutes the humming was loud enough I could barely hear my breathing. I decided to see what the sound was. As I walked towards the noise, it grew so loud I could no longer hear my footsteps.

I stopped when I reached the end of the dense forest. There was a ten foot chain link fence, and even in the darkness I could tell there was barbs on the top. The sign on the fence read, Casella Waste System. Inside the fenced in area was a cleared area. From what I could see, the land sloped up into a hill. On top of the hill was a large building. The windows were dark all except one. Something glimmered on the hillside, and I realized there was a stream that ran down. To my left, the water pooled down into a small pond.

I went over to the pond, and shone my flashlight at the bottom. The water was so dirty I couldn't see the bottom. I took my empty water bottle, and filled it with water from the dirty stream. I had received a water test kit for Christmas, and I so far hadn't used it for much. It was supposed to test water from wells to see if it was safe to drink. I had tested the tap water, but that was it. The water test kit could test for copper, iron, lead, nitrates, nitrites, bacteria and toxins from pesticides. Once I had partially filled it, I screwed the cap back on. Tomorrow I was going test it.  I wanted to know what was in this water to make it so brown.

After I filled up my water bottle, I turned back and walked back to my car. By the time I had arrived back at my apartment, it was nearly ten o´clock. I poured the powder and the contaminated water into the water test vials. The directions read they were to be left for 12 hours. I put the vials on my desk in my bedroom. I went to bed.

I woke up to my alarm at eight in the morning. I laid in bed for a couple more minutes, then I finally got up. After making breakfast which consisted of pouring cereal and milk, I found my water testing vials on my desk where I had left them. The one meant to test harmful bacteria read positive. The lead vial, copper vial, and toxins vials all read positive as well. I had suspected as much, since the water was run off coming from a landfill. But, I wanted to know more.

I looked it up online, and I found a website that had you send the water to be tested in a lab. The results was going to be sent back after a week, and it was going to give you all things found in the water and how much was in it. I decided I was going to send a sample of the water. I followed the directions from online carefully. An hour later, my package with the water had been sent out.

After I sent it out, I didn't really think about it. On Saturday, a week later, I had completely forgotten about it. When the mail arrived, I brought it inside. On the top was a small box. The box´s return address was the place I´d sent the water to. I opened the box, and saw the vial of water, and a paper with all the results. There was a letter inside as well. I opened the letter. It thanked me for sending the sample, but what was surprising was that it asked where the water was from. I didn't understand why they needed it at first. But then I read the results.

According to the water testing site, there was a large amount of mercury in the water. After looking it up, I found that mercury weakens fish and amphibian eggs which have a very soft protective shell. When the eggs are softened they eggs are more susceptible to bacteria. This mercury and bacteria causes deformities and decreased reproduction of amphibians like the blue spotted salamander. This was probably part of the reason why the salamanders were hard to find in this area. They either weren't reproducing, or they were dying due to deformities. The testing place was inquiring about the location the water was from because the levels of mercury exceeded the mercury regulation´s maximum.

The amount of mercury the Casella Waste System was emitting was illegal. The water testing company wanted to find out who they were so that they could turn them in. I wondered though if they were aware of how much they were polluting or if it was accidental. So, I decided I was going to pay them another visit.

I drove to the front entrance of the facility. The chain fence enclosed it even at the entrance, it's only opening was the large metal gate. I reached the gate, parked along the road, and got out of my car. Inside the fence there were a few small cars parked alongside two large dump trucks. At least from here, the place was quiet. The building sat with a tranquil and innocent feeling, embedded into the hill. The trees surrounded the enclosement, filling the space with bright green of spring. Inside the fence, the land was bare. The grass looked brown, and all the trees that were once there had been cleared. I got off my bike, and walked to the gate. It was locked as I expected. There was a keypad and intercom, but I didn't know what I was going to say if someone was on the other side. I walked along the fence to the edge of the woods, and I walked until I reached where I had been the other night. A steady stream of water still trickled down into the pond. It was just as cloudy and brown as it had been before. I scoured the muddy banks of the pond, but I saw nothing. I took my phone out, and took pictures of the water. I took pictures of everything that could be useful, and then I walked my bike back up to the road.

The next day, I found the phone number of the Casella Waste System. I called them. I wanted to know if they were aware of the pollution they were causing to the nearby forests. The phone rang a few times before someone picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” The person on the other end replied, “You´ve reached Casella Waste System Treatment in Bethlehem, New Hampshire. How can I help you?”

“I´d like to speak to whoever is the head of this location, please.”

“I´ll put you on with the manager. Hold on for a minute.” I stayed on the line as the woman redirected my call. A few minutes later someone is on the line.

“Hello? This is Rick Jones. I'm the manager of the Bethlehem Casella Waste Treatment Facility.” The voice on the other side is a gruff male voice.

“Hi, I´m Ava Watson. I´m doing a report on waste treatment for my class in Journalism and I was hoping I could come interview you and learn more about what your facility does.” This was a long stretch. Although I was in college, it was late spring and all my classes had ended weeks ago. I was not in a journalism class, and I hoped he wasn't going to figure it out. We scheduled a meeting for Wednesday. I was going to come in to meet with Rick, tour the building, and interview some of the workers.

When Wednesday finally came around I was prepared. I had questions to ask and I had bulletproofed my story so I could get all the information I needed. I had also purchased a tape recorder. This way if Rick were to let anything slide I could use it against him. I showed up at the wrought iron gates of the Casella Waste Treatment Facility at 9:16, four minutes early for my appointment. I pulled up alongside the intercom. It crackled, and a voice on the other end inquired who I was. I told them I was here for a meeting, and the gates automatically swung open. I parked in the parking lot at the side of the building. When I reached the front door, Rick Jones was waiting for me.

“Ava,” he said with a large smile, “it's great to have you here.” I shook his hand, and he led me into the building. As we walked, he talked about the facility´s purpose. Once the tour was over, he took me to his office. I sat in the chair across from him. I set up the tape recorder.

“How does the waste treatment facility impact the environment?”

“Well, Casella Waste Treatment facilities try to dispose the waste as successful as possible. We´re just like any waste treatment facility, except we try to be as eco friendly as possible. The runoff from our site is cleaned by ultra violet lights before being sent into the soil. This way it´s clean, and it's helping the earth.”

“So the water you´re filtering out into the woods is clean and refined?” I asked, suspiciously.

“We can't clean it anymore than it already is,” he boasted.

“Could I see where the stream comes out?” Something shifted in his face.

“Not right now, but you could definitely come another time-”

“But this is mainly what my paper is about, I will need to take pictures of it for research.” I held my breath. I hoped that he was going to go down to where the water filtered out with me. Instead, he stood up.

“That's all the time I have today. You´ll have to come back another time to take more pictures.” Rick held out his hand, expecting me to take it and to leave right away. But I needed evidence that the facility was ignoring the pollution they were emitting.

“When´s your next open date?” He shuffled uncomfortably. He didn't expect me to be so persistent.

“I´m pretty busy for the next few weeks. I'll have to call you later to talk about dates.” He led me to the door of the office. “Thank you so much for coming in,” he said, and before I could thank him he had shut the door behind me. I was really no closer than I had been before. I went home.

That night, I called up an old friend of mine to tell her what I had found. She was an attorney, and she suggested that I send in a report to the Environmental Protection Agency with all of my evidence. With her help, I was able to file a complaint on Casella Waste Treatment. The complaint contained the photos I had took, and all the evidence I had gathered on my tour and interview. I just hoped it was enough to make the company stop hurting the wildlife around them.

For the next few weeks while I was waiting for a response back from the EPA, I tried to get people to support me. I tried to rally all my friends and family to support me if the case ever made it to trial. I desperately wanted to make change.

  When the letter came back stating a trial date I was shocked. But of course I was ready for it. I had my friend help me organize all my evidence. All I had was the pictures, and the recording. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to at least make an impact.

Rick Jones never called me back. I'm sure once he caught wind of me trying to sue his branch of the company he wasn't going to schedule another meeting. That was fine, though. With all the support I had received from the community and the evidence, we had enough to win the case.

On the day of the trial, I was elated. I was sure we were going to win.  The New Hampshire Department of Environmental Services was fighting for me, and everything I had compiled was evidence.

As I came into the trial room a man came to meet me.

“Are you Ms. Watson?” He wore a black suit and tie, and on his lapel he wore a badge reading NHDES.   

“Yes,” I replied.  

“I´m Cory Goodale. I´m representing the New Hampshire Department of Environmental Services.” He smiled at me, “And if I'm being honest, you have plenty of evidence proving them to be harming the environment. I think we´re going to win.”  

We took our seats. Nick went over the evidence and it seemed like the jury was convinced. The photos of the water was a big help, and it seemed like they would take our side. When Rick spoke it changed the jury's mind.

He spoke about how the pollution wasn't actually harming the wildlife or environment.

“Although Ms. Watson makes an excellent case that the runoff from our waste treatment facility is causing harm to the environment, she has no evidence. The runoff may look very dirty, we refine it before releasing it into the soil. The chemicals Ms Watson worries are in the water are actually not present. On another note, she may claim that we´re harming the environment, but she has no evidence that any of the species or plants have experienced negative changes due to our runoff. Without evidence of actual harm, her entire claim is nothing but feeble,” Rick Jones stated.

It appeared that after Rick Jones had spoken the jury had come to a decision. Although Cory Goodale attempted to sway the jury towards our point of view during the conclusion, it was with limited evidence. It was soon revealed to me that my photos and water testing meant nothing compared to a company with over two hundred locations all over New England.

An hour later, Cory Goodale sat beside me as the jury revealed their vote. The judge read the final statement aloud.

“After a careful evaluation of the facts, the jury has come to the conclusion that the Casella Waste System Treatment Facility in Bethlehem, New Hampshire is found not guilty of intentional pollution of the Ammonoosuc River and nearby forest areas.” With that, the trial came to an end. Cory Goodale turned to me.

“Well, we tried our best,” he said with a sigh. “I guess that's all we can do. I really thought we would win.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I replied.

A few weeks after the trial, I returned to the Ammonoosuc River trail. Walking through those woods, I felt at peace. I reached the pond where I had searched for salamanders. Kneeling in the dirt and leaves, I looked once more for salamanders. I picked up a rock that sat at the bank of the pond. Underneath, I saw two black eyes looking up at me. The salamander was black as the night, and it's bright blue spots covered most of its body. I picked it up with cupped hands. It's slippery smooth skin rubbed up against my hands. It poked its head and its legs out of the opening as it tried to escape from my grasp. That's when I noticed that on it´s right front foot it had two extra toes. On it´s left front foot it had the usual four, while the other had six. I stared at the salamander. If I had seen this salamander the first night I came I would have had enough proof to win the trial. Now, all I had accomplished was seeing a Blue Spotted Salamander for the second time in my life.