Two years after Hurricane Katrina, even as its horrible aftermath continues to unfold, it's eerie to see that in the Sacramento-San Joaquin River Delta developers continue to build homes on man-made islands surrounded by earthen levees. And despite the Delta's long history of levee breaks and floods, and the added risk posed by rising sea level, people are buying those homes--below sea level--and moving in. Why is this being permitted? And why do people choose to invest their savings and their lives in real estate that might be under water before the mortgage is paid?

We asked reporter Shirley Skeel to visit some of these new homeowners and ask the second of those questions. The answers she brought back were of two kinds: "Someone, surely, is making sure this is all right," and "I hope a disaster doesn't happen, but if it does, well, that's life."

As in New Orleans, there have been warnings about the Delta's levees. There have been hefty reports and studies. But the economic incentives for development have prevailed. The legislature and the governor have taken steps toward strengthening the levees, but what can be done within the limits of financial resources--and of time--may not be enough. What then?

As I looked at Shirley Skeel's photographs of the happy families in our Delta story, I couldn't help but think of the faces of women and children from the Lower Ninth Ward that I saw in the New York Times of July 7, 2007. The story described their bleak lives and prospects. They are quartered in FEMA trailers set among refineries and cane fields, 18 miles from the nearest supermarket, without prospect of jobs or means to get to any work they might find. Separated from the networks of family and friends who used to share in the care of children and the disabled, they are marooned. "We are in storage," one of the women told reporter Shaila Dewan.

The new homeowners in the Delta may be better off economically than the people in the Ninth Ward were before Katrina, but many of them don't have a lot of choices either. It's hard to argue they should not have moved here when you hear some of their reasons: too much crime, police helicopters, gunfire, industrial pollution where they came from. It's quiet in their new neighborhood, and the children can play outside. They were sure they couldn't afford to buy a home anywhere else. But were they warned? The real estate agents who assured them of safety were trying to make a sale. Scientists are saying something else: The Delta is a disaster waiting to happen.

Also in this issue of Coast & Ocean, Carl Nagin examines what has been done to prevent a repetition of last year's deadly outbreak of E. coli in spinach. The source was tracked to pre-washed spinach processed under contract by Natural Selection Foods and grown in a field in San Benito County. How and at what point between field and package the spinach was contaminated has not been determined. The leafy greens industry has voluntarily reached an agreement to take important preventative measures, though critics question whether these suffice.

In addition to the new agreed-upon standards, some produce buyers and distributors are demanding that growers they buy from do other things that are not only absurd and costly to the farmers but also harmful, such as erecting eight-foot fences around fields, tearing out strips of habitat, and blocking wildlife traffic--undermining years of cooperative restoration and water-quality work.

These articles may alarm you, but they demand public attention. If you find yourself dismayed, do continue in the magazine to the story of George Davidson and the beginning of the U.S. Coastal Survey, which evolved into the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. You will be inspired and energized again. Then have a bit of fun with the Geocaching story.

--Rasa Gustaitis