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CLIMATE CHANGE
“The greatest danger to our planet is the belief that someone else will save it.” — Robert Swan
Kristy Oates, State Conservationist for the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Natural Resource Conservation Service (NRCS)
climate+water: The urban and rural land climate connection
By Robert Mace
September 26, 2022
September 26, 2022
Fahrenheit 140: Episode 5
Farmers, ranchers, and landowners increasingly experience the impacts of climate change as severe storms, floods, drought, and wildfire damage their operations and impact their livelihoods. Hosts Robert Mace and Carrie Thompson speak with Kristy Oates, State Conservationist for the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Natural Resource Conservation Service (NRCS), about working with private landowners to develop conservation (and climate) solutions that support rural Texans.
In this episode, our hosts cover several topics:
An interview with Kristy Oates:
Farmers, ranchers, and landowners increasingly experience the impacts of climate change as severe storms, floods, drought, and wildfire damage their operations and impact their livelihoods. Hosts Robert Mace and Carrie Thompson speak with Kristy Oates, State Conservationist for the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Natural Resource Conservation Service (NRCS), about working with private landowners to develop conservation (and climate) solutions that support rural Texans.
In this episode, our hosts cover several topics:
- Drought is causing low spring flows and high bacteria levels in many spring-fed systems across the state (01:13)
- Texas could face its third year of La Niña weather conditions, meaning drought will likely continue into the fall and spring (03:45)
- The Meadows Center’s new climate research project will help prepare Texas for climate change (05:47)
- Global warming is causing fewer tropical cyclones (11:49)
- Texas company teams up with a Harvard scientist to combat climate change by reviving the woolly mammoth (16:21)
- Nestlé cut greenhouse gases by 4 million tons since 2018 and will achieve fully recyclable and reusable packaging by 2025 (19:39)
An interview with Kristy Oates:
- Kristy leads conservation services operations within Texas for NRCS (23:59)
- Began her career with NRCS in 1995 as a Soil Conservation Technician (24:36)
Red-tailed Hawk. Photo: Jamie Burning/Audubon Photography Awards
The Inflation Reduction Act is a Big Deal. Here’s What it Means for Birds (And You)
We parse out the key provisions of this historic climate legislation.
By Sarah Rose
August 4, 2022
August 4, 2022
In a move that surprised nearly everyone on Capitol Hill (including, humbly, your friendly neighborhood National Audubon Society policy and comms shops), the Biden Administration’s effort to pass sweeping climate action is back on the table. The Senate has an opportunity to advance one of the most significant pieces of climate legislation ever in the form of the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA). It is, as Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm told Stephen Colbert, “a BFD.”
It is also massive, as these policy packages tend to be. There is a lot of content to explore, and as one of the leading organizations protecting birds and the places they need today and tomorrow, here are some of the highlights that we’re hoping will make it through the final vote:
Overall, this bill represents a major step forward in the effort to meet our climate goals. In a bill this large, final passage will inevitably require negotiation and compromise. Included currently are provisions providing opportunities for additional fossil fuel leasing, with some renewable energy development contingent upon oil and gas leasing being made available on some public lands. Even with these elements, the the opportunity for progress on climate is significant. We urge both the Senate and the House to pass this legislation as soon as possible. Birds are telling us that we need to reduce emissions as soon as possible to protect the places that both they and we need to survive. This bill will go a long way to making that critical difference.
It is also massive, as these policy packages tend to be. There is a lot of content to explore, and as one of the leading organizations protecting birds and the places they need today and tomorrow, here are some of the highlights that we’re hoping will make it through the final vote:
- Extension and expansion of clean energy: The IRA makes additional technologies like energy storage and biogas eligible for tax credits, and transitions to a technology-neutral credit so that the amount of emissions reduction potential is the primary criterion, rather than the technology itself. The bill also provides billions of dollars for grants and loans for new clean energy manufacturing, repair and upgrade of transmission infrastructure, and incentives for developing domestic supply chains for critical mineral
- Climate-smart agriculture and resilience: Our fields, forests, and other working lands play a critical role in naturally storing carbon and reducing emissions. The IRA would provide $19.9 billion to support implementation of conservation practices on farms, ranches, orchards, and forests across the country. These practices can also help promote drought resilience in the West through river restoration projects, habitat restoration, and irrigation management and efficiency
- Methane fee: Methane is one of the most dangerous greenhouse gases, and is the second-biggest contributor to climate change, after carbon dioxide. Burning off excess methane, or flaring, is particularly hazardous for both people and wildlife, and methane leakage is a common problem in fossil fuel production. The IRA Includes funds for methane emissions monitoring and fixes, and applies a fee on oil and gas operations of $900 in 2024 (up to $1,500 in 2026 and thereafter) per metric ton of methane emitted.
- Ports: The bill contains $3 billion to reduce emissions and air pollution at America’s ports, which is good news for both coastal birds and nearby communities.
- DOE Loans Program Office (LPO): The LPO is the part of the Energy Department that finances large-scale infrastructure projects. The IRA would give over $70 billion in new loan authority for the LPO, which is critical to expanding clean energy and transmission, as well as updating infrastructure to meet climate threats and ensuring that new projects are designed with conservation of existing environments in mind.
- Increase Timeliness of EPA Reviews: The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) conducts reviews of major projects, but this review process, for myriad reasons, suffers from an extensive backlog. The IRA would provide $40 million to the EPA through FY 2026 to provide for timely permitting reviews to advance projects or more quickly identify necessary improvements before proceeding.
- Environmental and Climate Justice: Conservation is more than just protecting wild spaces and wildlife. It also means prioritizing investments to build healthy communities, especially for those communities that have historically shouldered the burden of pollution and climate change. The IRA will provide block grants of $2.8 billion through FY 2026 for environmental justice grants, including community-led air pollution monitoring, prevention, and remediation. Additionally, many of the tax credits provided for in the bill increase in value if they directly affect communities that have been disproportionately affected by climate change, including Black and brown, Indigenous, and lower-income communities.
Overall, this bill represents a major step forward in the effort to meet our climate goals. In a bill this large, final passage will inevitably require negotiation and compromise. Included currently are provisions providing opportunities for additional fossil fuel leasing, with some renewable energy development contingent upon oil and gas leasing being made available on some public lands. Even with these elements, the the opportunity for progress on climate is significant. We urge both the Senate and the House to pass this legislation as soon as possible. Birds are telling us that we need to reduce emissions as soon as possible to protect the places that both they and we need to survive. This bill will go a long way to making that critical difference.
Texas Monthly; Getty
Is This a Typical Texas Heat Wave or the Coldest Summer of the Rest of Our Lives?
Across the state, Texans are experiencing record-high temperatures, but we might be recalling this summer fondly someday.
By Forrest Wilder
July 25, 2022
There’s a meme circulating on the internet that’s popular with sweaty, climate-conscious doomscrollers. In the top panel, a distraught-looking Bart Simpson laments, “This is the hottest summer of my life.” In the bottom panel, Homer wags a finger at Bart. “This is the coldest summer of the rest of your life,” he says. D’oh!
The idea, of course, is that though this endless summer may be miserable for millions of people from the United Kingdom to Texas, it’s just a warm-up act for the heat waves to come. Or to be more precise: heat waves will no longer be waves; they’ll just be “summer.” Meanwhile, plenty of other Texans are comforting themselves with the notion that extreme heat is a fact of life in our capricious climate and there’s nothing unusual about the current heat wave. Lord willing, it will rain again and the calendar will eventually turn to autumn, bringing freshets of cool air from up north.
In other words, we are all coping in our own polarized ways. But memes and wishful thinking aside, what does the science say our future holds? Is this the new normal? Is Homer right?
First, it’s important to note just how historic this heat wave has been. Summer 2022, June through August, could be the hottest on record for many parts of Texas. Austin and San Antonio, for example, are in the middle of the hottest summer on record by quite a bit. That’s right—hotter than 2011, the summer from hell that many supposed was a black swan event. Each city’s average high is more than a degree hotter than its second-warmest summer on record.
Ah, well, at least it’s cooling off at night, you might say. Ehhh, not so much. In Dallas, the low temperature last Monday of 86 degrees Fahrenheit tied five other days for the all-time record high-minimum temp (the warmest morning, basically), and a quarter of the summer days so far “have seen daily record high low temperature records either set or broken,” according to Victor Murphy, a Fort Worth–based meteorologist with the National Weather Service. Galveston didn’t drop below 85 degrees for a week straight earlier this month, and set a record morning-low temperature for July of 86 on four days this month. And this is a single data point, but try this one on for size: last Tuesday, it got up to 116 degrees in Vernon, near Wichita Falls. Which is insanely hot, but what’s really crazy is that it was still 98 at midnight and only briefly dropped below 90 overnight.
All of this is consistent with the effects of human-caused warming. We’ve experienced tremendous summertime warming in Texas in recent decades. This summer is running about 6 degrees higher than the twentieth-century average, according to John Nielsen-Gammon, the state climatologist and a professor of atmospheric sciences at Texas A&M. He estimates that roughly one quarter of that abnormal heat is attributable to climate change. “Climate change is making droughts worse by increasing the temperatures and thereby increasing how rapidly everything dries out,” Nielsen-Gammon said.
In the past four and a half decades, the number of triple-digit days has doubled, according to a 2021 report authored by Nielsen-Gammon for Texas 2036, a nonprofit think tank. But it’s actually nighttime summer temperatures that are rising fastest. A new report from Climate Central found that summer nights are warming twice as fast as daytime temps. El Paso is among the U.S. cities to experience the most overnight warming since 1970, with nighttime lows now 8.1 degrees warmer than fifty years ago.
So how does this summer (so far) stack up against projections of future Texas summers? In his study last year, Nielsen-Gammon projected that by 2036—the two-hundredth anniversary of Texas’s independence from Mexico and just fourteen years from now—the number of 100-degree days is expected to double again. He divided the state into four quadrants—Coastal, North Central, South Central, and Northwest. In the past two decades, the South Central part of the state, which includes San Antonio, has averaged about fourteen days of triple-digit temperatures each year. By 2036, the typical summer will see closer to thirty days of such extreme heat. The North Central portion—Dallas–Fort Worth and portions of East Texas—has averaged twenty days of 100 degrees or higher each year; by 2036, that will be forty.
Keep in mind we are talking about the typical summer. Some years will be cooler; some quite a bit hotter. But in general, as average temperatures increase so does the likelihood of long strings of triple-digit days. Climate Central projects that by 2100 summers in Abilene, Austin, and El Paso will resemble Dubai, where the average August high is a cool 106 degrees. Dallas–Fort Worth will be more like Ciudad Obregón, Mexico. Houston’s sister city: Lahore, Pakistan, where it is decidedly not a dry heat.
I put the Homer question to Andrew Dessler, a professor of atmospheric sciences at Texas A&M University. He began his analysis with a question: What is the probability of a June hotter than the hottest June from 1950 through 2022 occurring in any given year through the end of the century? Using an ensemble of climate models, he looked at ten Texas cities, projecting average temperatures for June in the coming decades if we don’t aggressively cut carbon emissions. By the middle of the century, extreme summer heat of the kind we are experiencing now will become not uncommon, and by century’s end it will be fairly typical.
Around 2060, for example, Dessler projected that Houston will have roughly a one-in-three chance of seeing a June hotter than the Bayou City’s hottest on record, which was 1998. (June 2022 ranked as Houston’s fourth-warmest on record.) Another way of thinking about this: in the 2060s, every third June in Houston will be hotter than June 1998.
For Austin, the odds are one in five that June in 2060 will be hotter than any on record. (June 2022 tied with 2008 as the hottest on record for the Capital City.) Ditto for Abilene, Amarillo, Dallas, Midland, Tyler, and Wichita Falls. For Corpus Christi, 2060 will bring almost a 50 percent chance of a June hotter than any on record (beating 1998), and for Brownsville, the odds are two out of three.
And by the end of the century, summer 2022 starts to look almost mild. Around 2100, Brownsville, for example, will experience a June cooler than June 1998—its hottest—only one out of every five years. Corpus Christi will get a “cool” June—cooler than 1998—about every third year. For the rest of the cities, hotter Junes than any in the last seventy years will come every two to three years. In layman’s terms: unless the world dramatically cuts emissions—and soon—our future is gonna be really hot.
“The good news is that it’s not like every summer is going to be like this one,” said Dessler. “But ten years ago we had 2011 and that was really unpleasant. And now, eleven years later, we have another 2011. And the next one might be eight years and then six years and so on. You kind of get used to it, but you don’t want to have to get used to 103 degrees, which is basically what it is every day this summer, it seems.”
The idea, of course, is that though this endless summer may be miserable for millions of people from the United Kingdom to Texas, it’s just a warm-up act for the heat waves to come. Or to be more precise: heat waves will no longer be waves; they’ll just be “summer.” Meanwhile, plenty of other Texans are comforting themselves with the notion that extreme heat is a fact of life in our capricious climate and there’s nothing unusual about the current heat wave. Lord willing, it will rain again and the calendar will eventually turn to autumn, bringing freshets of cool air from up north.
In other words, we are all coping in our own polarized ways. But memes and wishful thinking aside, what does the science say our future holds? Is this the new normal? Is Homer right?
First, it’s important to note just how historic this heat wave has been. Summer 2022, June through August, could be the hottest on record for many parts of Texas. Austin and San Antonio, for example, are in the middle of the hottest summer on record by quite a bit. That’s right—hotter than 2011, the summer from hell that many supposed was a black swan event. Each city’s average high is more than a degree hotter than its second-warmest summer on record.
Ah, well, at least it’s cooling off at night, you might say. Ehhh, not so much. In Dallas, the low temperature last Monday of 86 degrees Fahrenheit tied five other days for the all-time record high-minimum temp (the warmest morning, basically), and a quarter of the summer days so far “have seen daily record high low temperature records either set or broken,” according to Victor Murphy, a Fort Worth–based meteorologist with the National Weather Service. Galveston didn’t drop below 85 degrees for a week straight earlier this month, and set a record morning-low temperature for July of 86 on four days this month. And this is a single data point, but try this one on for size: last Tuesday, it got up to 116 degrees in Vernon, near Wichita Falls. Which is insanely hot, but what’s really crazy is that it was still 98 at midnight and only briefly dropped below 90 overnight.
All of this is consistent with the effects of human-caused warming. We’ve experienced tremendous summertime warming in Texas in recent decades. This summer is running about 6 degrees higher than the twentieth-century average, according to John Nielsen-Gammon, the state climatologist and a professor of atmospheric sciences at Texas A&M. He estimates that roughly one quarter of that abnormal heat is attributable to climate change. “Climate change is making droughts worse by increasing the temperatures and thereby increasing how rapidly everything dries out,” Nielsen-Gammon said.
In the past four and a half decades, the number of triple-digit days has doubled, according to a 2021 report authored by Nielsen-Gammon for Texas 2036, a nonprofit think tank. But it’s actually nighttime summer temperatures that are rising fastest. A new report from Climate Central found that summer nights are warming twice as fast as daytime temps. El Paso is among the U.S. cities to experience the most overnight warming since 1970, with nighttime lows now 8.1 degrees warmer than fifty years ago.
So how does this summer (so far) stack up against projections of future Texas summers? In his study last year, Nielsen-Gammon projected that by 2036—the two-hundredth anniversary of Texas’s independence from Mexico and just fourteen years from now—the number of 100-degree days is expected to double again. He divided the state into four quadrants—Coastal, North Central, South Central, and Northwest. In the past two decades, the South Central part of the state, which includes San Antonio, has averaged about fourteen days of triple-digit temperatures each year. By 2036, the typical summer will see closer to thirty days of such extreme heat. The North Central portion—Dallas–Fort Worth and portions of East Texas—has averaged twenty days of 100 degrees or higher each year; by 2036, that will be forty.
Keep in mind we are talking about the typical summer. Some years will be cooler; some quite a bit hotter. But in general, as average temperatures increase so does the likelihood of long strings of triple-digit days. Climate Central projects that by 2100 summers in Abilene, Austin, and El Paso will resemble Dubai, where the average August high is a cool 106 degrees. Dallas–Fort Worth will be more like Ciudad Obregón, Mexico. Houston’s sister city: Lahore, Pakistan, where it is decidedly not a dry heat.
I put the Homer question to Andrew Dessler, a professor of atmospheric sciences at Texas A&M University. He began his analysis with a question: What is the probability of a June hotter than the hottest June from 1950 through 2022 occurring in any given year through the end of the century? Using an ensemble of climate models, he looked at ten Texas cities, projecting average temperatures for June in the coming decades if we don’t aggressively cut carbon emissions. By the middle of the century, extreme summer heat of the kind we are experiencing now will become not uncommon, and by century’s end it will be fairly typical.
Around 2060, for example, Dessler projected that Houston will have roughly a one-in-three chance of seeing a June hotter than the Bayou City’s hottest on record, which was 1998. (June 2022 ranked as Houston’s fourth-warmest on record.) Another way of thinking about this: in the 2060s, every third June in Houston will be hotter than June 1998.
For Austin, the odds are one in five that June in 2060 will be hotter than any on record. (June 2022 tied with 2008 as the hottest on record for the Capital City.) Ditto for Abilene, Amarillo, Dallas, Midland, Tyler, and Wichita Falls. For Corpus Christi, 2060 will bring almost a 50 percent chance of a June hotter than any on record (beating 1998), and for Brownsville, the odds are two out of three.
And by the end of the century, summer 2022 starts to look almost mild. Around 2100, Brownsville, for example, will experience a June cooler than June 1998—its hottest—only one out of every five years. Corpus Christi will get a “cool” June—cooler than 1998—about every third year. For the rest of the cities, hotter Junes than any in the last seventy years will come every two to three years. In layman’s terms: unless the world dramatically cuts emissions—and soon—our future is gonna be really hot.
“The good news is that it’s not like every summer is going to be like this one,” said Dessler. “But ten years ago we had 2011 and that was really unpleasant. And now, eleven years later, we have another 2011. And the next one might be eight years and then six years and so on. You kind of get used to it, but you don’t want to have to get used to 103 degrees, which is basically what it is every day this summer, it seems.”
LWV San Antonio Climate Change Webinar #1
Watch the first in a series of videos about Climate Change in Texas presented by the League of Women Voters - San Antonio.
Susan Cook-Patton is Senior Forest Restoration Scientist for The Nature Conservancy. © Peter Ellis
Second Nature:
A 2020 Study Suggests Letting Forests Regrow Naturally Can Help Boost Efforts To Fight Climate Change
By Kirsten Weir
February 28, 2022
February 28, 2022
In 2013, scientist Susan Cook-Patton and a few other researchers with the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center began an experiment to answer a simple question: What tree-planting strategies work best? Together with a brigade of 100 citizen scientists, the researchers planted red maple and white oak, sweetgum and sour gum—some 20,000 native saplings in all—on former cropland near Chesapeake Bay. But the answer they found was unexpected.
“The trees that were growing best were ones that were coming up from rootstock and seeds that were just sort of in the soil,” says Cook-Patton, now a senior forest restoration scientist for The Nature Conservancy. “When people think about reforestation, their minds often go straight to tree planting. But we shouldn’t forget that trees can grow themselves.”
It’s a lesson that looms large in a study led by Cook-Patton, published in Nature in 2020, that suggests that degraded forests, left to regrow naturally, may hold more carbon storage potential than previously thought. In the process, natural reforestation may be an unsung partner in the fight against climate change—not replacing large-scale tree planting efforts, but working alongside them.
In the analysis, a team of scientists synthesized results from more than 250 studies on carbon absorption in regrowing forests. They found that these fledgling forests have the potential to absorb up to 8.9 billion metric tons of carbon dioxide every year for the next three decades, without negatively affecting native grasslands or food production. The rate of carbon accumulation used to make that estimate is 32% higher, on average, than the figures used by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. That matters because those numbers guide many nations’ commitments to lower carbon emissions. In other words, governments may not realize the value in simply leaving their degraded forests alone to grow.
Forests vary widely though. They don’t absorb carbon at the same rates, and the study delves deep into those details: It provides a world map, with a resolution of one kilometer, that allows anyone to compare the carbon potential of natural reforestation from site to site. Some young secondary forests can soak up 100 times as much carbon as others, depending on factors such as climate, rainfall, soils and elevation.
A tropical rainforest in Costa Rica or the Amazon basin will grow more quickly—and soak up more carbon—than a temperate pine forest in Maine. Even within a single region, however, there is startling variation. Take Colombia, a not-especially-large nation with a more than threefold difference in carbon accumulation rates from one tropical forest to another. “When policymakers think about where to invest in reforestation,” Cook-Patton says, “they can zero in on the hot spots.
“The trees that were growing best were ones that were coming up from rootstock and seeds that were just sort of in the soil,” says Cook-Patton, now a senior forest restoration scientist for The Nature Conservancy. “When people think about reforestation, their minds often go straight to tree planting. But we shouldn’t forget that trees can grow themselves.”
It’s a lesson that looms large in a study led by Cook-Patton, published in Nature in 2020, that suggests that degraded forests, left to regrow naturally, may hold more carbon storage potential than previously thought. In the process, natural reforestation may be an unsung partner in the fight against climate change—not replacing large-scale tree planting efforts, but working alongside them.
In the analysis, a team of scientists synthesized results from more than 250 studies on carbon absorption in regrowing forests. They found that these fledgling forests have the potential to absorb up to 8.9 billion metric tons of carbon dioxide every year for the next three decades, without negatively affecting native grasslands or food production. The rate of carbon accumulation used to make that estimate is 32% higher, on average, than the figures used by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. That matters because those numbers guide many nations’ commitments to lower carbon emissions. In other words, governments may not realize the value in simply leaving their degraded forests alone to grow.
Forests vary widely though. They don’t absorb carbon at the same rates, and the study delves deep into those details: It provides a world map, with a resolution of one kilometer, that allows anyone to compare the carbon potential of natural reforestation from site to site. Some young secondary forests can soak up 100 times as much carbon as others, depending on factors such as climate, rainfall, soils and elevation.
A tropical rainforest in Costa Rica or the Amazon basin will grow more quickly—and soak up more carbon—than a temperate pine forest in Maine. Even within a single region, however, there is startling variation. Take Colombia, a not-especially-large nation with a more than threefold difference in carbon accumulation rates from one tropical forest to another. “When policymakers think about where to invest in reforestation,” Cook-Patton says, “they can zero in on the hot spots.
A regrowing forest might not look like much when it's beginning to grow again. But it has potential. © Claire Harrup
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In time, a second-growth forest emerges from the shrubs. © Claire Harrup
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THE POTENTIAL IN A LOGGED FIELD
Staring at a field left to regenerate, it can be hard to see the potential, says Robin Chazdon, a retired professor and forest ecologist who is co-author of the study. “It’s unkempt and messy. It doesn’t look like a forest right away,” she says. But don’t judge a young forest by its tree cover.
For more than two decades Chazdon studied tropical forest recovery in northeastern Costa Rica, and she watched as land degraded for grazing and logging transformed from a scruffy collection of shrubs and vines to lush tropical forest echoing with birdsong. “Seeing it recover, I gained an appreciation for the promise of letting forests regrow,” she says.
That reforestation pattern has repeated itself in degraded lands left alone in several parts of the world. In the Carpathian Mountains of Europe, for instance, farmland abandoned in the 1990s has regrown into secondary forests of beech, sycamore, alder and other species. The Atlantic Forest of Brazil has naturally regained just over 6 million acres in the last 25 years. And in the United States, the Eastern Deciduous Forest—spanning from Maine to Florida—mounted a comeback after nearly being lost.
“Here in New England,” says Laura Marx, a forest ecologist at TNC in Massachusetts, “our history is one of natural reforestation.” European colonists’ demand for timber and farmland felled most of the trees by the 1920s. But, left fallow in the intervening years, much of that forestland returned to its wild roots. Between 1930 and 2000, forest cover in the eastern United States increased from just 10% to nearly 40%. “We’re lucky that we have the right soils, and the right climate, that allowed those fields to return to forests,” she says.Waiting for forests to heal themselves isn’t always practical, however. While some degraded forests regain much of their former glory within two or three decades, sites with poor soils, no native seed source or a glut of invasive species might never gain a foothold.
HELPING NATURE ALONG
Even when regrowth is a viable option, forests often can benefit from a little help. In the eastern United States, the fastest-growing trees can sometimes outcompete slower species, creating a less diverse secondary forest than the old-growth that was lost. But conservationists can give regrowth a helping hand by protecting land from disturbance, removing non-native species or planning controlled burns, for instance, to maintain diversity and reduce the wildfire hazards.
Such “assisted natural regeneration” is taking place in the Greater Mahale Ecosystem of western Tanzania, where TNC is working with local villages to find alternatives to grazing cattle in areas where secondary forests are beginning to grow. “By stopping grazing, we can allow natural regeneration to occur,” says Kevin Juma, TNC’s Africa forest carbon catalyst director. “Where it is suitable, it’s the most cost-effective way to restore forests.”
Letting forests rewild themselves is both cheaper and easier than planting thousands of seeds or saplings. But cost isn’t the only benefit. Natural regrowth can encourage a more diverse forest to grow than the monoculture that sometimes results from industrial forestry or large-scale plantings. “Encouraging natural regrowth in areas where it’s suitable can provide natural corridors between mature forests,” says Chazdon. “Many animals are willing to walk or fly through the understory of a secondary forest, while they’re not willing to travel through a tree plantation.”
On the East Coast, where forest cover has begun declining again, the forest ecologist Marx and her colleagues are now considering where and how natural reforestation might fit into their modern conservation efforts. One option could be a “pay for performance” incentive to reward landowners who recover a certain amount of tree density, even if they never plant a single seed or sapling. “Whether they get there by planting trees, or because they stopped mowing, or put up fences to keep out deer, in some ways it doesn’t matter,” Marx says. “We want to encourage people to use whatever methods are most likely to be successful at achieving reforestation.”
In the end that is the point: a green, growing forest, whether planted or naturally regenerated. As Peter Ellis, TNC’s global director of climate science and a co-author of Cook-Patton’s study, puts it: “We already have this amazing machine, invented by nature, that takes carbon dioxide and turns it into wood. Let’s find those places that aren’t being put to their best use and let them regrow, so they can capture as much carbon as possible.”
Staring at a field left to regenerate, it can be hard to see the potential, says Robin Chazdon, a retired professor and forest ecologist who is co-author of the study. “It’s unkempt and messy. It doesn’t look like a forest right away,” she says. But don’t judge a young forest by its tree cover.
For more than two decades Chazdon studied tropical forest recovery in northeastern Costa Rica, and she watched as land degraded for grazing and logging transformed from a scruffy collection of shrubs and vines to lush tropical forest echoing with birdsong. “Seeing it recover, I gained an appreciation for the promise of letting forests regrow,” she says.
That reforestation pattern has repeated itself in degraded lands left alone in several parts of the world. In the Carpathian Mountains of Europe, for instance, farmland abandoned in the 1990s has regrown into secondary forests of beech, sycamore, alder and other species. The Atlantic Forest of Brazil has naturally regained just over 6 million acres in the last 25 years. And in the United States, the Eastern Deciduous Forest—spanning from Maine to Florida—mounted a comeback after nearly being lost.
“Here in New England,” says Laura Marx, a forest ecologist at TNC in Massachusetts, “our history is one of natural reforestation.” European colonists’ demand for timber and farmland felled most of the trees by the 1920s. But, left fallow in the intervening years, much of that forestland returned to its wild roots. Between 1930 and 2000, forest cover in the eastern United States increased from just 10% to nearly 40%. “We’re lucky that we have the right soils, and the right climate, that allowed those fields to return to forests,” she says.Waiting for forests to heal themselves isn’t always practical, however. While some degraded forests regain much of their former glory within two or three decades, sites with poor soils, no native seed source or a glut of invasive species might never gain a foothold.
HELPING NATURE ALONG
Even when regrowth is a viable option, forests often can benefit from a little help. In the eastern United States, the fastest-growing trees can sometimes outcompete slower species, creating a less diverse secondary forest than the old-growth that was lost. But conservationists can give regrowth a helping hand by protecting land from disturbance, removing non-native species or planning controlled burns, for instance, to maintain diversity and reduce the wildfire hazards.
Such “assisted natural regeneration” is taking place in the Greater Mahale Ecosystem of western Tanzania, where TNC is working with local villages to find alternatives to grazing cattle in areas where secondary forests are beginning to grow. “By stopping grazing, we can allow natural regeneration to occur,” says Kevin Juma, TNC’s Africa forest carbon catalyst director. “Where it is suitable, it’s the most cost-effective way to restore forests.”
Letting forests rewild themselves is both cheaper and easier than planting thousands of seeds or saplings. But cost isn’t the only benefit. Natural regrowth can encourage a more diverse forest to grow than the monoculture that sometimes results from industrial forestry or large-scale plantings. “Encouraging natural regrowth in areas where it’s suitable can provide natural corridors between mature forests,” says Chazdon. “Many animals are willing to walk or fly through the understory of a secondary forest, while they’re not willing to travel through a tree plantation.”
On the East Coast, where forest cover has begun declining again, the forest ecologist Marx and her colleagues are now considering where and how natural reforestation might fit into their modern conservation efforts. One option could be a “pay for performance” incentive to reward landowners who recover a certain amount of tree density, even if they never plant a single seed or sapling. “Whether they get there by planting trees, or because they stopped mowing, or put up fences to keep out deer, in some ways it doesn’t matter,” Marx says. “We want to encourage people to use whatever methods are most likely to be successful at achieving reforestation.”
In the end that is the point: a green, growing forest, whether planted or naturally regenerated. As Peter Ellis, TNC’s global director of climate science and a co-author of Cook-Patton’s study, puts it: “We already have this amazing machine, invented by nature, that takes carbon dioxide and turns it into wood. Let’s find those places that aren’t being put to their best use and let them regrow, so they can capture as much carbon as possible.”
RONNIE DREVER Drever, senior conservation scientist for Nature United, is the lead author of a study examining natural climate solutions to aid Canada in reducing carbon emissions. © Ronnie Drever
Forest Carbon 101: A Conversation About How Trees Soak Up Carbon
By Kirsten Weir
February 28, 2022
February 28, 2022
A conversation with Ronnie Drever, senior conservation scientist for Nature United.
HOW DOES A TREE ABSORB CARBON?
Drever: Through the magic of photosynthesis, trees take carbon dioxide out of the air, mix it with water, and make sugars and oxygen. The sugars that are created by this process get distributed throughout the plant. The carbon in those sugars is stored throughout the tree, from root to bud.
IS CARBON ALSO STORED IN FOREST SOILS?
Yes, and protecting carbon stores in soil is important. When we calculate how much carbon a forest can store, we consider the whole system: the standing trees, the shrub layer, the soils and the dead materials on the forest floor. Picture a temperate forest of maples and ash, where leaves fall to the ground each autumn. Some of that carbon is released when the leaves decay. But much of it stays locked up in a carbon layer that builds up in the soil over time. When trees die and fall, much of that woody material also stays in the soil.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TREES ARE CUT DOWN?
If we use that wood in furniture or building materials, isn’t the carbon still stored in those products? Yes, but the carbon in a chair or floorboard is only part of the story. A lot of emissions come from the logging machinery, the transportation of the logs [and wood scraps left behind]. When creating wood products, we have to be careful to account for all of the emissions released during logging and production.
HOW DO OLD-GROWTH FORESTS COMPARE WITH YOUNG FORESTS IN THEIR ABILITY TO STORE CARBON?
Two things happen when we talk about carbon storage in forests: The first is the actual carbon stored in trees’ tissues and in forest soil. Then there’s carbon sequestration—the process that happens when trees take additional carbon out of the atmosphere via photosynthesis. You can think of it like a bank account. Carbon storage is like the capital in your account. The sequestration is the interest, accruing year by year.
In that analogy, the difference between a young secondary forest and an old-growth forest is like the difference between a start-up and an established blue-chip stock. Young forests typically have low capital (not as much stored carbon) but high interest (they take in a lot of carbon each year because they’re growing quickly). An old-growth forest has lower interest—it isn’t taking as much carbon from the atmosphere—but it has a lot of capital.
Indigenous LeadershipProtecting old-growth forests from logging and burning is critical for reducing emissions, and around the world Indigenous leadership is essential to this work.
SO, IS IT MORE IMPORTANT TO PROTECT OLDER FORESTS OR PLANT NEW ONES?
All forests are important from the point of view of storing carbon. Old forests are unrivaled in their ability to store carbon. They have a lot of what scientists call irrecoverable carbon: If we disturb that stored carbon, we won’t be able to get it back through natural processes on the timetable we’d need for effective climate action. So protecting old-growth forests from logging and burning is critical. But in the longer term, it’s also important to plant trees and protect young forests so that they can become middle-aged forests. Acre for acre, a middle-aged forest actually has the greatest carbon sequestration capacity.
WHAT ABOUT FORESTS IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE WORLD?
Tropical forests grow really fast, so they absorb a lot of carbon through photosynthesis. But we can’t forget about the decomposition part of the equation. Things also decompose more quickly in the tropics, which releases carbon into the atmosphere. In northern boreal forests, where decomposition is low—especially in forest soils—carbon storage is high [relative to sequestration].
HOW VALUABLE ARE FORESTS IN THE BIG PICTURE OF CLIMATE MIGRATION?
It’s hard to overemphasize the importance of forests. Photosynthesis is the oldest carbon-capture technology ever invented. Our greatest advances in carbon-capture technology don’t hold a candle to trees in terms of efficiency or cost. And, of course, forests also provide many other benefits for people and for nature.
It’s important to put nature-based climate mitigation in context. We can’t take our eyes off the ball in terms of reducing fossil fuel emissions and decarbonizing the economy. But natural climate solutions are an important complement to those efforts. Our forests have a fundamental role to play in making sure our children, and their children, have a stable climate.
Drever: Through the magic of photosynthesis, trees take carbon dioxide out of the air, mix it with water, and make sugars and oxygen. The sugars that are created by this process get distributed throughout the plant. The carbon in those sugars is stored throughout the tree, from root to bud.
IS CARBON ALSO STORED IN FOREST SOILS?
Yes, and protecting carbon stores in soil is important. When we calculate how much carbon a forest can store, we consider the whole system: the standing trees, the shrub layer, the soils and the dead materials on the forest floor. Picture a temperate forest of maples and ash, where leaves fall to the ground each autumn. Some of that carbon is released when the leaves decay. But much of it stays locked up in a carbon layer that builds up in the soil over time. When trees die and fall, much of that woody material also stays in the soil.
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TREES ARE CUT DOWN?
If we use that wood in furniture or building materials, isn’t the carbon still stored in those products? Yes, but the carbon in a chair or floorboard is only part of the story. A lot of emissions come from the logging machinery, the transportation of the logs [and wood scraps left behind]. When creating wood products, we have to be careful to account for all of the emissions released during logging and production.
HOW DO OLD-GROWTH FORESTS COMPARE WITH YOUNG FORESTS IN THEIR ABILITY TO STORE CARBON?
Two things happen when we talk about carbon storage in forests: The first is the actual carbon stored in trees’ tissues and in forest soil. Then there’s carbon sequestration—the process that happens when trees take additional carbon out of the atmosphere via photosynthesis. You can think of it like a bank account. Carbon storage is like the capital in your account. The sequestration is the interest, accruing year by year.
In that analogy, the difference between a young secondary forest and an old-growth forest is like the difference between a start-up and an established blue-chip stock. Young forests typically have low capital (not as much stored carbon) but high interest (they take in a lot of carbon each year because they’re growing quickly). An old-growth forest has lower interest—it isn’t taking as much carbon from the atmosphere—but it has a lot of capital.
Indigenous LeadershipProtecting old-growth forests from logging and burning is critical for reducing emissions, and around the world Indigenous leadership is essential to this work.
SO, IS IT MORE IMPORTANT TO PROTECT OLDER FORESTS OR PLANT NEW ONES?
All forests are important from the point of view of storing carbon. Old forests are unrivaled in their ability to store carbon. They have a lot of what scientists call irrecoverable carbon: If we disturb that stored carbon, we won’t be able to get it back through natural processes on the timetable we’d need for effective climate action. So protecting old-growth forests from logging and burning is critical. But in the longer term, it’s also important to plant trees and protect young forests so that they can become middle-aged forests. Acre for acre, a middle-aged forest actually has the greatest carbon sequestration capacity.
WHAT ABOUT FORESTS IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE WORLD?
Tropical forests grow really fast, so they absorb a lot of carbon through photosynthesis. But we can’t forget about the decomposition part of the equation. Things also decompose more quickly in the tropics, which releases carbon into the atmosphere. In northern boreal forests, where decomposition is low—especially in forest soils—carbon storage is high [relative to sequestration].
HOW VALUABLE ARE FORESTS IN THE BIG PICTURE OF CLIMATE MIGRATION?
It’s hard to overemphasize the importance of forests. Photosynthesis is the oldest carbon-capture technology ever invented. Our greatest advances in carbon-capture technology don’t hold a candle to trees in terms of efficiency or cost. And, of course, forests also provide many other benefits for people and for nature.
It’s important to put nature-based climate mitigation in context. We can’t take our eyes off the ball in terms of reducing fossil fuel emissions and decarbonizing the economy. But natural climate solutions are an important complement to those efforts. Our forests have a fundamental role to play in making sure our children, and their children, have a stable climate.
Climate Change has Destabilized the Earth’s Poles, Putting the Rest of the Planet in Peril
New research shows how rising temperatures have irreversibly altered both the Arctic and Antarctic. Ripple effects will be felt around the globe.
By Sarah Kaplan
December 14, 2021
December 14, 2021
The ice shelf was cracking up. Surveys showed warm ocean water eroding its underbelly. Satellite imagery revealed long, parallel fissures in the frozen expanse, like scratches from some clawed monster. One fracture grew so big, so fast, scientists took to calling it “the dagger.”
“It was hugely surprising to see things changing that fast,” said Erin Pettit. The Oregon State University glaciologist had chosen this spot for her Antarctic field research precisely because of its stability. While other parts of the infamous Thwaites Glacier crumbled, this wedge of floating ice acted as a brace, slowing the melt. It was supposed to be boring, durable, safe.
Now climate change has turned the ice shelf into a threat — to Pettit’s field work, and to the world.
Planet-warming pollution from burning fossil fuels and other human activities has already raised global temperatures more than 1.1 degrees Celsius (2 degrees Fahrenheit). But the effects are particularly profound at the poles, where rising temperatures have seriously undermined regions once locked in ice.
In research presented this week at the world’s biggest earth science conference, Pettit showed that the Thwaites ice shelf could collapse within the next three to five years, unleashing a river of ice that could dramatically raise sea levels. Aerial surveys document how warmer conditions have allowed beavers to invade the Arctic tundra, flooding the landscape with their dams. Large commercial ships are increasingly infiltrating formerly frozen areas, disturbing wildlife and generating disastrous amounts of trash. In many Alaska Native communities, climate impacts compounded the hardships of the coronavirus pandemic, leading to food shortages among people who have lived off this land for thousands of years.
“The very character of these places is changing,” said Twila Moon, a glaciologist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center and co-editor of the Arctic Report Card, an annual assessment of the state of the top of the world. “We are seeing conditions unlike those ever seen before.”
“It was hugely surprising to see things changing that fast,” said Erin Pettit. The Oregon State University glaciologist had chosen this spot for her Antarctic field research precisely because of its stability. While other parts of the infamous Thwaites Glacier crumbled, this wedge of floating ice acted as a brace, slowing the melt. It was supposed to be boring, durable, safe.
Now climate change has turned the ice shelf into a threat — to Pettit’s field work, and to the world.
Planet-warming pollution from burning fossil fuels and other human activities has already raised global temperatures more than 1.1 degrees Celsius (2 degrees Fahrenheit). But the effects are particularly profound at the poles, where rising temperatures have seriously undermined regions once locked in ice.
In research presented this week at the world’s biggest earth science conference, Pettit showed that the Thwaites ice shelf could collapse within the next three to five years, unleashing a river of ice that could dramatically raise sea levels. Aerial surveys document how warmer conditions have allowed beavers to invade the Arctic tundra, flooding the landscape with their dams. Large commercial ships are increasingly infiltrating formerly frozen areas, disturbing wildlife and generating disastrous amounts of trash. In many Alaska Native communities, climate impacts compounded the hardships of the coronavirus pandemic, leading to food shortages among people who have lived off this land for thousands of years.
“The very character of these places is changing,” said Twila Moon, a glaciologist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center and co-editor of the Arctic Report Card, an annual assessment of the state of the top of the world. “We are seeing conditions unlike those ever seen before.”
Rain falls beyond the historical Zion’s Church on Sept. 4 in Ilulissat, Greenland. (Mario Tama/Getty Images)
The rapid transformation of the Arctic and Antarctic creates ripple effects all over the planet. Sea levels will rise, weather patterns will shift and ecosystems will be altered. Unless humanity acts swiftly to curb emissions, scientists say, the same forces that have destabilized the poles will wreak havoc on the rest of the globe.
“The Arctic is a way to look into the future,” said Matthew Druckenmiller, a scientist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center and another co-editor of the Arctic Report Card. “Small changes in temperature can have huge effects in a region that is dominated by ice.”
This year’s edition of the report card, which was presented at the American Geophysical Union annual meeting December 14, 2021, describes a landscape that is transforming so fast scientists struggle to keep up. Temperatures in the Arctic are rising twice as fast as the global average. The period between October and December 2020 was the warmest on record, scientists say.
Separately on December 14, 2021, the World Meteorological Organization confirmed a new temperature record for the Arctic: 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the Siberian town of Verkhoyansk on June 20, 2020.
These warm conditions are catastrophic for the sea ice that usually spans across the North Pole. This past summer saw the second-lowest extent of thick, old sea ice since tracking began in 1985. Large mammals like polar bears go hungry without this crucial platform from which to hunt. Marine life ranging from tiny plankton to giant whales are at risk.
“It’s an ecosystem collapse situation,” said Kaare Sikuaq Erickson, whose business Ikaagun Engagement facilitates cooperation between scientists and Alaska Native communities.
The consequences of this loss will be felt far beyond the Arctic. Sea ice has traditionally acted as Earth’s “air conditioner”; it reflects as much as two thirds of the light that hits it, sending huge amounts of solar radiation back into space.
By contrast, dark expanses of water absorb heat, and it is difficult for these areas to refreeze. Less sea ice means more open ocean, more heat absorption and more climate change.
“We have a narrow window of time to avoid very costly, deadly and irreversible climate impacts,” National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration head Rick Spinrad told reporters.
Record highs have also sounded the death knell for ice on land. Three historic melting episodes struck Greenland in July and August, causing the island’s massive ice sheet to lose about 77 trillion pounds. On Aug. 14, for the first time in recorded history, rain fell at the ice sheet summit.
“I think my jaw would have hit the floor,” Moon said, imagining what she might have felt had she witnessed the unprecedented event. “This fundamentally changes the character of that ice sheet surface.”
Though the Greenland ice sheet is more than a mile thick at its center, rain can darken the surface, causing the ice to absorb more of the sun’s heat, Moon said. It changes the way snow behaves and slicks the top of the ice.
The consequences for people living in the Arctic can be dire. In Greenland and elsewhere, meltwater from shrinking glaciers has deluged rivers and contributed to floods. Retreating ice exposes unstable cliffs that can easily collapse into the ocean, triggering deadly tsunamis. Roads buckle, water systems fail and buildings cave in as the permafrost beneath them thaws.
Some 5 million people living in the Arctic’s permafrost regions are at risk from the changes happening at their shores and under their feet.
“It’s not just about polar bears, it’s about actual humans,” said Rick Thoman, a climate specialist at the International Arctic Research Center at the University of Alaska Fairbanks and another co-editor of the Arctic Report Card. “These changes are impacting people and their lives and livelihoods from ‘What’s for dinner tonight?’ up to the international scale.”
“The Arctic is a way to look into the future,” said Matthew Druckenmiller, a scientist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center and another co-editor of the Arctic Report Card. “Small changes in temperature can have huge effects in a region that is dominated by ice.”
This year’s edition of the report card, which was presented at the American Geophysical Union annual meeting December 14, 2021, describes a landscape that is transforming so fast scientists struggle to keep up. Temperatures in the Arctic are rising twice as fast as the global average. The period between October and December 2020 was the warmest on record, scientists say.
Separately on December 14, 2021, the World Meteorological Organization confirmed a new temperature record for the Arctic: 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the Siberian town of Verkhoyansk on June 20, 2020.
These warm conditions are catastrophic for the sea ice that usually spans across the North Pole. This past summer saw the second-lowest extent of thick, old sea ice since tracking began in 1985. Large mammals like polar bears go hungry without this crucial platform from which to hunt. Marine life ranging from tiny plankton to giant whales are at risk.
“It’s an ecosystem collapse situation,” said Kaare Sikuaq Erickson, whose business Ikaagun Engagement facilitates cooperation between scientists and Alaska Native communities.
The consequences of this loss will be felt far beyond the Arctic. Sea ice has traditionally acted as Earth’s “air conditioner”; it reflects as much as two thirds of the light that hits it, sending huge amounts of solar radiation back into space.
By contrast, dark expanses of water absorb heat, and it is difficult for these areas to refreeze. Less sea ice means more open ocean, more heat absorption and more climate change.
“We have a narrow window of time to avoid very costly, deadly and irreversible climate impacts,” National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration head Rick Spinrad told reporters.
Record highs have also sounded the death knell for ice on land. Three historic melting episodes struck Greenland in July and August, causing the island’s massive ice sheet to lose about 77 trillion pounds. On Aug. 14, for the first time in recorded history, rain fell at the ice sheet summit.
“I think my jaw would have hit the floor,” Moon said, imagining what she might have felt had she witnessed the unprecedented event. “This fundamentally changes the character of that ice sheet surface.”
Though the Greenland ice sheet is more than a mile thick at its center, rain can darken the surface, causing the ice to absorb more of the sun’s heat, Moon said. It changes the way snow behaves and slicks the top of the ice.
The consequences for people living in the Arctic can be dire. In Greenland and elsewhere, meltwater from shrinking glaciers has deluged rivers and contributed to floods. Retreating ice exposes unstable cliffs that can easily collapse into the ocean, triggering deadly tsunamis. Roads buckle, water systems fail and buildings cave in as the permafrost beneath them thaws.
Some 5 million people living in the Arctic’s permafrost regions are at risk from the changes happening at their shores and under their feet.
“It’s not just about polar bears, it’s about actual humans,” said Rick Thoman, a climate specialist at the International Arctic Research Center at the University of Alaska Fairbanks and another co-editor of the Arctic Report Card. “These changes are impacting people and their lives and livelihoods from ‘What’s for dinner tonight?’ up to the international scale.”
Antarctica’s Thwaites Glacier in 2019. (Jeremy Harbeck/OIB/NASA)
In Antarctica, said University of Colorado at Boulder glaciologist Ted Scampos, “climate change is more about wind changes and ocean changes than warming — although that is happening in many parts of it as well.”
Though the continent stays frozen for much of the year, rising temperatures in the Pacific have changed how air circulates around the South Pole, which in turn affects ocean currents. Warm, deep ocean water is welling up toward coastlines, lapping at the ice sheet’s frozen underbelly, weakening it from below.
“This is triggering the beginnings of a massive collapse,” Scampos wrote in an email from Antarctica’s McMurdo Station, where he is preparing for a field trip to the Thwaites Glacier’s failing ice shelf.
The disintegration of the Thwaites ice shelf won’t immediately increase sea levels — that ice already floats on top of the water, taking up the same amount of space whether it’s solid or liquid. But without the ice shelf acting as a brace, the land-bound parts of the glacier will start to flow more quickly. Thwaites could become vulnerable to ice cliff collapse, a process in which towering walls of ice that directly overlook the ocean start to crumble.
If the entire glacier failed, it would raise sea levels by several feet. Island nations and coastal communities would be inundated.
“We don’t know exactly if or when ice cliff failure is going to initiate,” said Anna Crawford, a glaciologist at the University of St. Andrews, who works on models of the process. “But we’re certain Antarctica is going to change.”
“There’s ample evidence to support reducing emissions,” she added, “because it’s giving us enough to be worried about already.”
For some in the Arctic, this rapid thaw represents opportunity. Tundra vegetation flourishes in the warmer weather. Beavers have migrated northward, digging their paws into the once-frozen earth.
Satellite images show that the number of beaver ponds in western Alaska — formed when the large rodents build their dams along waterways — has at least doubled since 2000. These ponds can contribute to the rapid thaw of permafrost, unleashing carbon that has been locked in soil for thousands of years. But it’s not yet clear what beaver engineering means for the planet, or even for the ecosystems just downstream.
Warmer conditions have also allowed people to infiltrate new environments, and here the detrimental impacts are plain to see. New shipping routes have been established through areas once blocked by sea ice, disrupting wildlife and polluting the ocean with unnatural noise.
Passing ships also leave behind huge amounts of garbage; in summer 2020, hundreds of items washed ashore in Alaskan communities along the Bering Strait. Residents — most of them Alaska Natives — found clothes, equipment, plastic food packaging and cans of hazardous oils and insecticides in waters where they regularly fish. Labels in English, Russian, Korean and a host of other languages illustrated the international nature of the problem.
Though the continent stays frozen for much of the year, rising temperatures in the Pacific have changed how air circulates around the South Pole, which in turn affects ocean currents. Warm, deep ocean water is welling up toward coastlines, lapping at the ice sheet’s frozen underbelly, weakening it from below.
“This is triggering the beginnings of a massive collapse,” Scampos wrote in an email from Antarctica’s McMurdo Station, where he is preparing for a field trip to the Thwaites Glacier’s failing ice shelf.
The disintegration of the Thwaites ice shelf won’t immediately increase sea levels — that ice already floats on top of the water, taking up the same amount of space whether it’s solid or liquid. But without the ice shelf acting as a brace, the land-bound parts of the glacier will start to flow more quickly. Thwaites could become vulnerable to ice cliff collapse, a process in which towering walls of ice that directly overlook the ocean start to crumble.
If the entire glacier failed, it would raise sea levels by several feet. Island nations and coastal communities would be inundated.
“We don’t know exactly if or when ice cliff failure is going to initiate,” said Anna Crawford, a glaciologist at the University of St. Andrews, who works on models of the process. “But we’re certain Antarctica is going to change.”
“There’s ample evidence to support reducing emissions,” she added, “because it’s giving us enough to be worried about already.”
For some in the Arctic, this rapid thaw represents opportunity. Tundra vegetation flourishes in the warmer weather. Beavers have migrated northward, digging their paws into the once-frozen earth.
Satellite images show that the number of beaver ponds in western Alaska — formed when the large rodents build their dams along waterways — has at least doubled since 2000. These ponds can contribute to the rapid thaw of permafrost, unleashing carbon that has been locked in soil for thousands of years. But it’s not yet clear what beaver engineering means for the planet, or even for the ecosystems just downstream.
Warmer conditions have also allowed people to infiltrate new environments, and here the detrimental impacts are plain to see. New shipping routes have been established through areas once blocked by sea ice, disrupting wildlife and polluting the ocean with unnatural noise.
Passing ships also leave behind huge amounts of garbage; in summer 2020, hundreds of items washed ashore in Alaskan communities along the Bering Strait. Residents — most of them Alaska Natives — found clothes, equipment, plastic food packaging and cans of hazardous oils and insecticides in waters where they regularly fish. Labels in English, Russian, Korean and a host of other languages illustrated the international nature of the problem.
Ice and snow on the shoreline at Teshekpuk Lake in North Slope Borough, Alaska, on May 28, 2019. The lake is the largest in Arctic Alaska and is a significant location for geese to molt and for caribou to migrate and calf. (Bonnie Jo Mount/The Washington Post)
For many Arctic residents, climate change is a threat multiplier — worsening the dangers of whatever other crises come their way. Another essay in the Arctic Report Card documents the threats to Alaska Natives’ food security caused by the coronavirus pandemic. Quarantine restrictions prevented people from traveling to their traditional harvesting grounds. Economic upheaval and supply chain issues left many grocery stores with empty shelves.
But the essay, which was co-written by Inupiaq, Hadia, Ahtna and Supiaq researchers, along with experts from other Native communities, also highlights how Indigenous cultural practices helped communities stave off hunger. Existing food sharing networks redoubled their efforts. Harvesting traditions were adapted with public health in mind.
“Our people, we’ve had to have these underlying characteristics of resiliency, sharing, respect,” said Erickson, the Inupiaq researcher. “We focus on practical solutions, otherwise we won’t survive.”
“The rest of the world,” he added, “is going to have to face that as well.”
Though no place on Earth is changing as fast as the Arctic, rising temperatures have already brought similar chaos to more temperate climates as well. Unpredictable weather, unstable landscapes and collapsing ecosystems are becoming facts of life in communities around the globe.
None of this represents a “new normal,” Moon cautioned. It’s merely a pit stop on a path to an even stranger and more dangerous future.
Global greenhouse gas emissions are on track to keep rising. Governments and businesses have not taken the steps needed to avert catastrophic warming beyond 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit) above preindustrial levels. There is every reason to believe that instability at the poles — and around the planet — will get worse.
But achieving the best case climate scenarios could cut the volume of ice lost from Greenland by 75 percent, research suggests. International cooperation could prevent garbage from getting into the oceans and alleviate the effects of marine noise. Better surveillance and early warning systems can keep people safe when melting triggers landslides and floods.
“There’s such a big range and difference in what the future of the Arctic and the future anywhere on our globe can look like,” Moon said. “It all depends on human actions.”
But the essay, which was co-written by Inupiaq, Hadia, Ahtna and Supiaq researchers, along with experts from other Native communities, also highlights how Indigenous cultural practices helped communities stave off hunger. Existing food sharing networks redoubled their efforts. Harvesting traditions were adapted with public health in mind.
“Our people, we’ve had to have these underlying characteristics of resiliency, sharing, respect,” said Erickson, the Inupiaq researcher. “We focus on practical solutions, otherwise we won’t survive.”
“The rest of the world,” he added, “is going to have to face that as well.”
Though no place on Earth is changing as fast as the Arctic, rising temperatures have already brought similar chaos to more temperate climates as well. Unpredictable weather, unstable landscapes and collapsing ecosystems are becoming facts of life in communities around the globe.
None of this represents a “new normal,” Moon cautioned. It’s merely a pit stop on a path to an even stranger and more dangerous future.
Global greenhouse gas emissions are on track to keep rising. Governments and businesses have not taken the steps needed to avert catastrophic warming beyond 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit) above preindustrial levels. There is every reason to believe that instability at the poles — and around the planet — will get worse.
But achieving the best case climate scenarios could cut the volume of ice lost from Greenland by 75 percent, research suggests. International cooperation could prevent garbage from getting into the oceans and alleviate the effects of marine noise. Better surveillance and early warning systems can keep people safe when melting triggers landslides and floods.
“There’s such a big range and difference in what the future of the Arctic and the future anywhere on our globe can look like,” Moon said. “It all depends on human actions.”
Climate Threats To Birds Are The Same Things That Threaten Our Communities
September 23, 2021
Audubon scientists have studied the effects of climate threats on birds and found that the same things that threaten birds threaten our communities, natural spaces, and working lands. The good news is that there are abundant opportunities to make progress in the climate fight immediately.
Birds tell us it’s not too late, but there’s no time to lose. Here is an immediate action you can take right now:
Audubon scientists have studied the effects of climate threats on birds and found that the same things that threaten birds threaten our communities, natural spaces, and working lands. The good news is that there are abundant opportunities to make progress in the climate fight immediately.
Birds tell us it’s not too late, but there’s no time to lose. Here is an immediate action you can take right now:
- Sign Audubon’s Climate Pledge. Stand with Audubon as we call on elected leaders to create a brighter future for birds and people through durable and inclusive policies and climate solutions.
Drought Conditions Improve, La Niña Watch, and Cooler and Wetter-Than-Normal Conditions Expected
By Robert Mace
July 26, 2021
July 26, 2021
It’s been something of an unusual summer so far, at least compared with summers in the somewhat recent past, seemingly cooler and wetter than normal. I decided to peek at where June ranks (too soon to look at July…) with respect to the record. The 1901 to 2000 average temperature was 79.6 degrees Fahrenheit compared to June 2021 temperature of 80.3 degrees Fahrenheit. Although June seemed cooler than normal, it was 0.7 degrees Fahrenheit warmer than normal (or at least the normal between 1901 to 2000; Figure 1a). However, our high temperatures have been 0.4 degrees Fahrenheit cooler than the record (but our lows have been 1.9 degrees Fahrenheit warmer than normal). Rainfall-wise, the state received 3.85 inches in June compared to the normal of 2.86 inches, 35 percent more than normal. Washington state—in the news lately for high temperatures—came in at 7.1 degrees Fahrenheit warmer than normal in June due to the heat dome that formed in the Pacific Northwest. Interestingly, June 2021 wasn’t the warmest June on record—2015 was (Figure 1b).
Source: https://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/cag/statewide/time-series/41/tavg/1/6/1895-2021?base_prd=true&begbaseyear=1901&endbaseyear=2000
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Source: https://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/cag/statewide/time-series/41/tavg/1/6/1895-2021?base_prd=true&begbaseyear=1901&endbaseyear=2000
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Well, the rains continued for another month with much of the Gulf Coast receiving more than 10 inches, much of West Texas getting more than 5 inches, and the El Paso area getting a year’s worth of rain (8 inches) over the past four weeks (Figure 2a). Only the Big Bend Area got less than half an inch of rain this month. A sizable part of the entire state got two to three times more than average over the past 28 days with the Big Bend Area missing out yet again (Figure 2b). Rain over the past 90 days was much less than normal in the Big Bend Area with the rest of state near normal or above (Figure 2c).
Source: https://water.weather.gov/precip/
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Source: https://water.weather.gov/precip/
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Source: https://water.weather.gov/precip/
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The amount of the state under drought conditions (D1–D4) decreased from 12.6 percent four weeks ago to 3.5 percent at present (Figure 3a) with drought and dry conditions fading away over much of the western parts of the state (Figure 3b). Exceptional drought, the most intense drought category, is now gone with only moderate drought in the Big Bend area (Figure 3a). Overall, 7.7 percent of the state remains abnormally dry or worse (D0–D4; Figure 3a), down considerably from 23.7 percent four weeks ago.
Source: https://droughtmonitor.unl.edu/CurrentMap/
StateDroughtMonitor.aspx?TX
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Source: https://droughtmonitor.unl.edu/Maps/ChangeMaps.aspx
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The North American Drought Monitor, which runs a month behind reality, continues to show a raging drought in much of the western United States with exceptional drought entrenched in the American Southwest (Figure 4a). In a welcome change, precipitation in most of the Rio Grande watershed in Colorado and New Mexico over the last 90 days was much greater than normal (Figure 4b). Conservation storage in Elephant Butte Reservoir decreased from 7.6 percent full last month to 6.5 percent (Figure 4c), just above historic (since 1990) lows.
The Rio Conchos basin in Mexico, which confluences into the Rio Grande just above Presidio and is an important source of water to the lower part of the Rio Grande in Texas, is in moderate to severe drought conditions (Figure 4a). Combined conservation storage in Amistad and Falcon reservoirs increased from 39.5 percent last month to 40.7 percent full today, still about 18 percentage points below normal for this time of year (Figure 4d).
The Rio Conchos basin in Mexico, which confluences into the Rio Grande just above Presidio and is an important source of water to the lower part of the Rio Grande in Texas, is in moderate to severe drought conditions (Figure 4a). Combined conservation storage in Amistad and Falcon reservoirs increased from 39.5 percent last month to 40.7 percent full today, still about 18 percentage points below normal for this time of year (Figure 4d).
Source: https://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/temp-and-precip/drought/nadm/maps/en/202105
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Source: https://water.weather.gov/precip/
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Source: https://water.weather.gov/precip/
Source: https://water.weather.gov/precip/
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Despite the rains, there are still basins with flows below the historical 25th percentiles (Figure 5a). Statewide reservoir storage is at 85.7 percent full as of today, up from 85.3 percent a month ago and above normal for this time of year (Figure 5b). Most reservoirs in the eastern part of the state are now above 90 percent full (Figure 5c).
Source: https://waterwatch.usgs.gov/index.php?map_type=dryw&state=tx
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Source: https://waterdatafortexas.org/reservoirs/statewide
Source: https://waterdatafortexas.org/reservoirs/statewide
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Sea-surface temperatures in the Central Pacific that, in part, define the status of the El Niño Southern Oscillation, have continued their warming trend such that we remain in neutral (La Nada) conditions (Figure 6a). Projections of sea-surface temperatures remain above La Niña conditions through the summer with the possible return to La Niña conditions in early fall (Figure 6a). The jump in temperature projections in late fall and early winter appears to be an artifact reflecting uncertainty in projecting that far in the future. The Climate Prediction Center projects neutral conditions holding through the June-August season (Figure 6b) and issued a La Nina Watch for the September-November season.
Source: https://www.cpc.ncep.noaa.gov/products/analysis_monitoring/
enso_advisory/ensodisc.pdf
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Source: https://iri.columbia.edu/our-expertise/climate/forecasts/enso/current/?enso_tab=enso-cpc_plume
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The U.S. Seasonal Drought Outlook through October 31, projects drought removal in Far West Texas over the next three months, a development that would drive drought out of Texas (Figure 7a). The three-month temperature outlook projects warmer-than-normal conditions for the western half of the state (Figure 7b) while the three-month precipitation favors wetter-than-normal conditions for the easternmost parts of the state and drier-than-normal conditions for the westernmost parts (Figure 7c). The one-month temperature outlook projects cooler-than-normal conditions for the northern half of the state (Figure 7d) while the one-month precipitation favors wetter-than-normal conditions for the entire state except the Big Bend Area (Figure 7e).
Source: https://www.cpc.ncep.noaa.gov/
products/expert_assessment/season_
drought.png
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Source: https://www.weather.gov/hun/climateforecast
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Source: https://www.weather.gov/hun/climateforecast
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Source: https://www.weather.gov/hun/climateforecast
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Source: https://www.weather.gov/hun/climateforecast
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