With the upheaval in Arctic and sub-Arctic ecosystems, it is no wonder that climate scientists are flocking to the far north, collecting data and studying land transformations that have the potential to affect the world over. But in the communities in which they arrive, permafrost thaw and climate change are hardly new buzz. The locals, often from remote and indigenous communities, have long been living with the effects of an altered landscape, necessarily becoming relevant experts on the ramifications of climate change in their home lands. But despite this expertise, they say, their knowledge and perspectives are rarely called upon.
The exclusion of indigenous voices pervades many steps of the scientific method. Very few researchers have visited Indigenous Alaskan communities like Beaver and the Yukon Delta before, which means they lack baseline data or historical context by which to ground their study. The local experience–that of empty freezers during trapping or fishing seasons, the catch made scarce by heavy heat; the changing river patterns locals once knew like the back of her hand; the spiritual and emotional symbiosis between the tribes and wildlife–is not easily transferable to the infrastructure of an academic paper. Indigenous truth and fact might not hold up in a peer-review; transcribing the oral stories that have defined a people for centuries might be considered unsubstantiated data collection. |
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 | | The Great Lakes Ready or Not project is produced by the Great Lakes News Collaborative, a partnership between Bridge Michigan, Circle of Blue, Great Lakes Now at DPTV and Michigan Radio that explores an essential question: Are Great Lakes residents and leaders ready for the stirred and shaken conditions that climatologists say we can expect? A new piece will be published every Tuesday. |
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 | | Water soaks into the soil of a bioretention feature on Oakman Boulevard in Detroit during a demonstration, May 11, 2021. Photo © City of Detroit |
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| In August 2014, historic and deadly flooding took Detroit by surprise. The city responded, in part, by turning to green stormwater infrastructure. It’s a strategy that cities around the Great Lakes basin have increasingly been employing to ease the burden on their wastewater infrastructure and improve water quality, while deferring or avoiding costly upgrades to wastewater treatment plants. It’s also a valuable adaptation to a changing climate, which is likely to make rainstorms more severe. |
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An extreme megadrought is sweeping across the American West, a consequence of climate change that is threatening urban water allotment, indigenous water security, and ecosystem balance. The pain is now being felt in Montana, where officials worry that a historically dry spring will shrink the state’s agricultural yield and increase the risk of summer wildfires.
For the Missouri River basin, which extends into Wyoming, the Dakotas, Nebraska, and northern Kansas, this was the ninth-driest April in over a century of record-keeping. In most of Montana, particularly in the arid north and east where farming is king, precipitation ranged from 17 to 55 percent of normal. |
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For the news you need to start the week, tune into “What’s Up With Water” fresh on Monday’s on iTunes, Spotify, iHeart Radio, and SoundCloud. Featured coverage from this week’s episode of What’s Up With Water looks at: - In Australia, researchers say that rivers may be more vulnerable to extreme drought than was previously thought.
- In the United States, Great Lakes states are seeing some relief from record-breaking high lake levels.
- In climate news, new research finds that many cities globally are failing to plan for a hotter future.
This week, Circle of Blue reports on extremely dry conditions in the American West. |
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| From Circle of Blue's Archives: |
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 | | Wild rice on the Bad River Reservation in northern Wisconsin is in the ‘floating leaf’ stage, with a single shoot lying on the water’s surface. This is considered one of the most critical and dangerous stages in the rice’s life cycle, as the stalks are very susceptible to heavy rains and flooding events that can either uproot the plants or drown them. Photo © Codi Yeager / Circle of Blue |
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The Bad River’s rice beds, which look like green prairies by late summer, perform much as they have for centuries. They provide a stable, supplemental food source for the Anishinaabe people, who hold wild rice as sacred. The rice is also a source of food for wildlife, as well as a habitat for many fish, making it a keystone species for this region’s water-rich landscape.
How much longer that will be the case is not clear, say Lisa and Peter David, plant biologists who have dedicated a significant portion of their careers to understanding and protecting wild rice. In recent years, climate change has produced stronger storms and more erratic weather. For a plant that grows best in water that is 30 to 90 centimeters (one to three feet) deep, the big changes in water depth caused by heavy rains and floods can drown young rice plants, or pull them out by their roots. |
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