12/01/2019

A Frozen History Of Climate Change – In Pictures

The GuardianPhotographs Anna Filipova

Buried deep under the Greenland ice sheet is a unique archive of life on Earth 40,000 years ago. Scientists are using this information to try to predict future changes to the planet

Scientists at EastGrip are examining ice from as far back as the last ice age.


The East Greenland Ice Core Project (EastGrip) is an international science camp sited on the Greenland ice sheet, about 2,700 metres above sea level. EastGrip is run by Professors Jørgen Peder Steffensen and Dorthe Dahl-Jensen. Their task is to drill, retrieve and analyse ice cores that reach down to the bedrock.

More than 80% of Greenland is covered by ice, but the Greenland ice sheet is shrinking. The entire EastGrip camp – including tents, buildings, caves and a runway for aeroplanes – moves sideways by about 15cm per day. If the ice sheet melts entirely, the world’s sea level will increase by over seven metres, according to the latest UN World Climate Report.

Knowing how ice sheets have reacted to past and present climate changes will help scientists estimate how they will contribute to future sea level changes.

The dome is where EastGrip’s scientists go to warm up, eat and relax.

The entrance to the science trench, an ice tunnel 9.5 metres below the surface of the Greenland ice sheet.

Inside the science trench, scientists can analyse the ice without it melting. The trench’s tunnels, caves and stairwells were constructed by inflating giant balloons and slowly covering them with snow.

A freshly drilled ice core, from a depth of 1,767 metres. The ice here is about 40,000 years old, and holds unique archives of past atmospheric conditions, including temperature, volcanic eruptions and greenhouse gas concentrations.  

The scientists cut and examine the ice cores inside the science trench, testing for volcanic ash, acid and ice crystal properties.  

Once the ice cores are drilled, they are logged in a refrigerated room at -35C (-31F) to prevent breaks.  

The scientists at EastGrip are now delving into ice from the last ice age, which is about 40,000 years old.  

Peder Steffensen explains: ‘The ice sheets in Greenland and Antarctica are unique as they are the only ones where the interior temperatures rarely (almost never) reach melting point during the summer. Snow remains snow, it does not melt away.’ As snowflakes hold small bubbles of air, their compressed layers are a timeline of information, he says – much like tree rings.  

Thirty people live and work at the camp during the summer months, when the temperature varies between –10C and -25C.  

A senior scientist collects fresh snow. Dr Barbara Seth, a driller at the camp, said: ‘Generally, everything is very intense in the field ... you are in an extreme and remote environment with nothing other than ice reaching far off into the horizon.’  

To get drinking water at the camp, scientists must melt snow from the ice sheet.  

There is no luxury transport for EastGrip’s scientists.  

Red flags attached to bamboo poles mark the boundaries of the camp for when visibility is low.  

All of the scientists’ food and equipment is flown in by the LC-130 Hercules, operated by the US Air National Guard. It is ski-equipped and lands directly on the ice sheet.

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Lessons Learnt (And Perhaps Forgotten) From Australia's 'Worst Fires'

FairfaxPeter Hannam

"The worst disaster in Australia's history," and "Terrible climax to heat wave," were just two of the screaming headlines greeting readers of The Age and the Sydney Morning Herald  80 years ago this week.
The Black Friday bushfires of 1939 devoured some 4 million hectares of Victoria, as much of the state ignited on January 13.
For NSW, the fury was mainly endured as a spell of heat so extreme that it set records in some places that are yet to be toppled. Still, the state was scorched too, as the Herald reported: "From Palm Beach to Port Hacking, and as far up the Blue Mountains as Mt Victoria, a complete ring of bushfires surrounded Sydney."
Locals and swimmers assist exhausted firemen in Sylvania in Sydney on January 14, 1939. At the time it was the hottest day on record in NSW. Credit: Beau Leonard/SMH
Eight decades on, the fires still fascinate not just in tales of tragedy and heroism but also in some of the changes they prompted in a nation soon to be at war.
They also help illustrate how technology has advanced to improve fire readiness and suppression, but also how some approaches have remained fundamentally the same, even as climate change is making a repeat of 1939's fire storms more likely.
The Black Friday death toll was shocking enough (at least 71) to prompt a royal commission in Victoria led by Judge Leonard Stretton. The commission's report ran to 35 pages and was completed in less than four months – rather more concise and speedy that its recent counterparts.

'Shadow of dread'
Today the report appeals as much for its lyricism as the sober judgements that would lead to the creation of Victoria's Country Fire Authority by 1945, when the war's end turned attention back to local priorities.
"The soft carpet of the forest floor was gone; the bone-dry litter crackled underfoot; dry heat and hot dry winds worked upon a land already dry, to suck from it the last, least drop of moisture," the report's introduction reads.
“Men who had lived their lives in the bush went their ways in the shadow of dread expectancy," it said before detailing the impacts of the "devastating confluence of flame” that had been "lit by the hand of man".
The results included whole townships "obliterated in a few minutes", while the monstrous winds accompanying the flames uprooted huge trees that were consumed by fire. "[F]ormer forest monarchs were laid in confusion ... piled one upon another as if strewn by a giant hand,” Stretton wrote.
Norm Goldings used his trusty DeSoto to rescue nearly 100 people near Noojee in Gippsland during the 1939 Black Friday bushfires.
"In my view, Black Friday remains Australia's largest fire in terms of its size – especially in Victoria, ACT and South Australia – and its impact on the population, proportionally," says Tom Griffiths, emeritus professor of history at the Australian National University.
"Most of the deaths were people living and working in the bush at remote sawmills, for the interwar years were a period of intensive milling of mountain ash in the rugged Victorian ranges," he says. "Stretton recommended that sawmills be moved out of the bush and into the towns."
But moving the mills out of the forests only took them so far from harm's way. Narbethong was one such town destroyed in 1939. Fast forward to Victoria's Black Saturday fires in 2009 (which has its 10th anniversary next month) and the town was again among those hardest hit, with its sawmill torched.

Killer heatwaves
Just as in the 2009 fires – perhaps the closest analogue to 1939 – the death toll in the accompanying heatwave easily exceeded that of those who burned to death.
Lucinda Coates, a senior risk scientist at Risk Frontiers and a researcher at the Bushfire and Natural Hazards Co-operative Research Centre, estimates at least 420 people died in the 1939 event across Australia. More than three in four of those were in NSW
"The series of heatwaves were accompanied by strong northerly winds, and followed a very dry six months," Coates says.
“The January 1939 event was notable for its longevity and record daily temperature maxima."
While Melbourne hit 45.6 degrees and Adelaide 46.1, Bourke in north-western NSW sweltered through 37 consecutive days above 38 degrees. Menindee, site of this week's huge fish kill due to stagnant Darling River flows and extreme heat, reached 49.7 degrees on January 10, 1939 – a statewide record that stands to this day.
“Home refrigerators were rare and air-conditioned buildings were unknown," Coates says. "Relief was sought at the beaches and baths; there were by then no inhibitions about mixed bathing.”
Workers leaving the Noojee area in Gippsland after the 1939 Black Friday bushfires.
Record-setting heat and drought
Linden Ashcroft, a researcher of climate history at the Bureau of Meteorology, says the weather in early 1939 was notably severe.
Four of the five hottest days on record for New South Wales as a whole were in January 1939, and two of the five hottest days in Victoria, she says. Victoria's hottest day is now February 7, 2009, just before the Black Saturday blazes. Melbourne hit a record high of 46.4 degrees in the late afternoon.
"The second week in January [1939] is generally regarded as the most extreme heatwave to affect south-eastern Australia during the 20th century," Ashcroft says.
Dry conditions played an important role, too, with the fires coming at the end of two dry years that would later be known as the World War II drought, one of the worst on record for south-eastern Australia.
"January 1937 to December 1938 were much drier than average across almost all of Victoria and NSW, and remain the driest two-year period on record for much of Victoria's eastern ranges where the Black Friday bushfires caused so much destruction," Ashcroft says.
"December 1938, in particular, was very dry across almost all of eastern Australia, which would have helped to really crisp up any fuel.
"Things were so dry that the topsoil blew up into dust storms easily, and did so for much of the summer until much-needed rain fell in February 1939."
Scorched trees line Black Spur Road between Healesville and Marysville after Black Friday in January 1939. Credit: Department of Primary Industries
Lighting up
With a hot air mass forming over the continent, the missing ingredient was a strong cold front from a low-pressure system off the south-west coast of Victoria.
With forest workers, graziers and even campers busy lighting fires as normal – the latter "burning to facilitate passage through the bush”, according to Stretton – the flames were ready to be fanned into an inferno.
Even without sophisticated weather modelling or satellite imagery to guide forecasters and the public alike, the "shadow of dread" Stretton reported was real, ANU's Griffiths says.
"The whole week leading into Black Friday was terrifying in the bush," he says. "No one living in the bush at that time thought their homes were safe – they fled to rivers, creeks, dugouts, mining tunnels and public buildings where they existed."
Stretton notes the calamity that befell those who were unable to flee, in particular one mill where all but one of the workers died “while trying to bury [themselves] in the imagined safety of the sawdust heap”.

Making progress
Some long-standing good would come out of the inquiry, as Joelle Gergis, climate scientist, notes in her book, Sunburnt Country.
Apart from the CFA's creation, recommendations acted upon included "construction of a network of access trails, towers for early detection of fires, the implementation of controlled burns during spring and autumn to reduce fuel loads, and improved fire prevention education", she writes.
Those gains were important, not just for humans, given the impact fires had the environment.
"Large tree hollows and other important habitats for mammals and birds, such as the Leadbeater's possum and powerful owl, were destroyed when the mature mountain ash forests burned," Gergis writes, noting that reports state the ash from the burning forests fell as far away as New Zealand.
"Local soils took decades to recover from the damage, and in some areas, water supplies were contaminated for years afterwards due to ash and debris washing into catchment areas."
Travellers up the Maroondah Highway beyond Healesville on Melbourne's north-eastern edge can see some of the evidence of the 1939 fires to this day. The battalion-like formations of towering mountain ash trees of similar shining white girth bear witness to their common vintage, all circa 1939.

Scientific leaps
Richard Thornton, chief executive of the Bushfire and Natural Hazards CRC, said Stretton's report "was the first real attempt to gain a deep understanding of the causes and consequences of a major bushfire".
"This approach continues today as we study fires to learn how to better keep people and property safe in future fires,” he says.
Scientific advances means technology available now and in 1939 are almost incomparable. "Not just in firefighting equipment like more protective clothing and vehicles, but in analysing the weather and the land with satellites and aircraft, before, during and after bushfires," Thornton says.
"Today we have a much better understanding of extreme bushfire behaviour, and how large bushfires interact with the atmosphere and create their own weather," he says.
"There is software to predict the path of a bushfire, and more experts trained to provide more accurate warnings to threatened communities."

Human factors
Researchers also provide expert advice on building standards to ensure that new buildings are safer and more likely to survive a bushfire, provided human psychology is taken into account.
"That’s one thing that hasn’t changed since 1939," Thornton says, noting that people will continue to want to build on ridges and at the end of one-way roads deep in the bush even with the attendant risks.
Griffiths agrees, adding that in terms of research gaps about fire, "they are overwhelmingly cultural".
"We know a lot about the physical behaviour of fire, less about the ecological effects of fire, and least of all about the cultural, human dimensions of fire," he says, citing international fire historian, Stephen Pyne: "The cultural paradigm is both the most obvious and the least developed [in fire research]".

'Beyond our imagination'
Thornton from the bushfire research centre adds that studying events like the 1939 and 2009 conflagrations, or the 1983 Ash Wednesday fires in South Australia and Victoria, also have their limitations because historical precedents are only so helpful.
“At the time, the 1939 conditions were beyond the imagination of everyone, even those who had lived their whole lives in the bush," he says.
"What does the next bushfire that is beyond our imagination look like? What will its impacts be?
"Climate change is causing more severe weather more frequently, but demographic changes are having an equal impact and deserve just as much of our attention," Thornton says.
"Since 1939, our population has grown from around 7 million to more than 24 million, with more people living, working and playing in at-risk areas."

Climate signals
The Bureau of Meteorology and CSIRO biennial State of the Climate report, released late last year, singled out extreme bushfire conditions as among the clearest changes under way as the country's (and world's) climate warms.
The most extreme 10 per cent of fire weather days – based on temperature, rainfall, humidity and wind speed – has increased in recent decades across many regions of Australia, especially in southern and eastern Australia, the report said.
One consequence is an associated increase in the length of the fire weather season, a view supported by 2018's late-season fires in March and late winter in NSW and Victoria. The trend is particularly notable in spring.
"The 1939 heatwave remains a very significant event, but observations show that extreme heat events, from hot days to heatwaves to a warmer-than-average month, are happening more often," Ashcroft says.
She cites the example of 86 extreme hot days (when the Australia-wide maximum temperature was in the top 1 per cent of temperatures recorded) observed during the five-year period from 2013 to 2017.
"This is more than double the number of extreme heat days recorded during the 50-year period from 1911 to 1960," she says.

One degree headstart
Unlike 1939, when Stretton concluded that much of the evidence put to him was "quite false" and "little of it was wholly truthful", researchers have a wealth of data open to scrutiny and cross-checking (even by deniers of climate change).
That means they can compare how sea-breezes eased the 1939 heatwave but were largely missing in the belter that swept across south-eastern Australia ahead of Black Saturday.
"Black Friday was the culmination of several dry years plus the perfect synoptic set-up for a heatwave and then catastrophic fire conditions," Ashcroft says. Conditions would need to be "just right" for a similar event to repeat.
"But if it did, the average temperatures across Australia have increased by around a degree since 1939," Ashcroft says. "If and when these ingredients do come together, they would occur against a warmer backdrop than that of 80 years ago."

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How Humans Disrupted A Cycle Essential To All Life

VoxAlvin Chang

This is the one thing you need to understand before thinking about our options to fight climate change.



I recently read a passage from my colleague Umair Irfan that vastly improved the way I thought about how humans can fight climate change.
In a piece a few months ago, he described the carbon cycle — but in a way that helped frame virtually every other piece I read on climate change:
Using sunlight, plants and microorganisms take in carbon dioxide and emit oxygen. Those plants are then eaten by animals, which then convert the plants to energy and exhale carbon dioxide. Or if the plants don’t get eaten, they die and decay, putting some carbon in the soil and returning some carbon to the atmosphere. It’s almost a closed loop, though over the course of millions of years, enough decaying plant and animal matter gradually built up in the ground to yield vast reserves of fossil fuels while reducing the carbon dioxide in the atmosphere bit by bit. Humans have breached this cycle by digging up fossil fuels and burning them, leading to carbon dioxide building up in the atmosphere faster than natural systems can soak it up. This has led to a net increase in greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, causing the planet to heat up.
His piece uses this framing to describe the different methods of removing carbon from the atmosphere.
But I thought this passage did one thing incredibly well: It helped me build a mental model of how something worked without humans, which then helped me understand exactly what humans had disrupted.

Sucking CO2 Out Of The Atmosphere, Explained

VoxUmair Irfan

Climate change has backed us into a corner. Scientists say we have to remove greenhouse gases from the atmosphere. 
The Hellisheiði Power Station near Reykjavik, Iceland, is home to a project that pulls carbon dioxide straight from the air, making it the world’s first carbon negative power plant. Christian Science Monitor/Getty
The best time to start the fight against climate change was 20 years ago. The second best time is right now. And since we’re so far behind, we have no option other than to try to roll the clock back and clean up the mess we’ve made.
In its most recent assessment, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) reported that we may have as little as 12 years to cut our greenhouse gas emissions in half compared to today’s levels to limit average global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius, a benchmark to avoid some of the worst impacts of climate change. It also reports that every scenario for doing this requires pulling carbon dioxide out of the air, also known as “negative emissions.”
The low-end IPCC estimate requires pulling 100 gigatons of carbon dioxide removal by 2100, roughly double the amount that humanity produces in a year today. The high-end estimate is 1,000 gigatons, effectively forcing humanity to undo 20 years of global greenhouse gas emissions.
Either way, it means that carbon removal is no longer just a potential strategy for fighting climate change. Given the very high likelihood we will overshoot our emissions reduction targets, carbon removal is now an absolute necessity for avoiding worst-case scenarios.
The good news is we already know how to bring carbon back down to earth, from smart land management to high-tech plants that capture it straight from the air. In fact, nature already soaks up almost one-third of the carbon dioxide we emit.

IMAGE
The big question is how we can ramp up everything we have to a meaningful scale in time.
Just in time, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine put out a new report Wednesday on the state of carbon dioxide removal technologies. The report found that we already have four methods ready for large-scale deployment at a cost of $100 per ton of carbon dioxide or less. Going forward, the report argues, the US needs more testing of these existing options and to ramp up research into new ways to capture carbon.
However, it notes, the world likely won’t be able to remove enough carbon dioxide with these technologies alone to limit warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius.
This is a field full of jargon, and there’s confusion around when you can count carbon as truly “removed” or “negative.” To wit: “Carbon capture” typically refers to grabbing the carbon as it’s being emitted, like the flue gas of a coal power plant. “Carbon removal” usually means getting carbon dioxide after it has already reached the atmosphere. And there isn’t enough beer or soda in the world to use all those bubbles, so the captured carbon has to find new uses or get stored away forever.
The tools we have to manage carbon this way have their own benefits and tradeoffs. But they are all in their infancy and need to grow up quickly if we’re going to avert catastrophic warming of the planet. Here’s the lay of the land.

We can tweak the carbon cycle to reduce emissions
Nature has already covered the planet in solar-powered carbon dioxide absorbers, and they’ve been removing greenhouse gases from the atmosphere for millennia.
Using sunlight, plants and microorganisms take in carbon dioxide and emit oxygen. Those plants are then eaten by animals, who then convert the plants to energy and exhale carbon dioxide. Or if the plants don’t get eaten, they die and decay, putting some carbon in the soil and returning some carbon to the atmosphere.
It’s almost a closed loop, though over the course of millions of years, enough decaying plant and animal matter gradually built up in the ground to yield vast reserves of fossil fuels while reducing the carbon dioxide in the atmosphere bit by bit.
Humans have breached this cycle by digging up fossil fuels and burning them, leading to carbon dioxide building up in the atmosphere faster than natural systems can soak it up. This has led to a net increase in greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, causing the planet to heat up.

The carbon cycle.
University Corporation for Atmospheric Research
Understanding this helps us frame our options for fighting climate change. If all you do is recirculate carbon dioxide in the air, you’re carbon neutral. But if you pull it out of the air and keep it from going back, you’re carbon negative.

Carbon dioxide removal should start with planting forests, grasses, crops, and better land management
One of the most powerful tools in fighting climate change is beneath our feet. Woodlands, prairies, algae, mangroves, wetlands, and soil withdraw carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and keep it from going back, tipping the balance negative.
Every acre of restored temperate forest can sequester 3 metric tons of carbon dioxide per year. In the US, forests already offset about 13 percent of the country’s carbon emissions. Globally, forests absorb 30 percent of humanity’s emissions. So restoring forests can be an effective way to reduce the concentration of carbon dioxide in the air.
Similarly, crops grown for human consumption like grains and grasses can also lead to negative emissions. These plants move atmospheric carbon dioxide into their root systems, so even if they’re eaten or burned for fuel, they leave some carbon in the soil. But the balancing act is trickier, since crops also require energy inputs like fertilizer and harvesting equipment. Clearing land to grow crops can also have a positive greenhouse gas footprint.
Another approach is to use holistic grazing practices for livestock. Rather than penning up these animals in factory farms, allowing them to graze over wider pastures can help restore grasslands as cattle, sheep, and pigs aerate the soil and enrich it with manure. The restored grasses then take in more carbon dioxide and store it in the soil.
These methods to fight climate change are often overshadowed by technological options, but they’re where we have the most experience and the best results so far. Restoring nature and planting more crops are also often cheaper than building and deploying hardware.
And, according to the new National Academies report, of the four CDR technologies that are ready for deployment, three involve the natural carbon cycle: planting new forests, improving forest management, and storing carbon in agricultural soils.
The big problem with these strategies is that there are tight constraints on how we use land. Forests, food, and housing needs compete for the same real estate, and there is not enough viable land to grow enough plants to completely offset all of humanity’s carbon dioxide emissions.
It’s also difficult to value the climate benefits of pristine or restored ecosystems against more measurable economic upsides like building housing or mining for resources.

We can produce power with negative emissions using bioenergy with carbon capture and sequestration
Another option lies in growing crops that can be burned for fuel. Since their carbon came from the atmosphere rather than from underground reservoirs, biofuels can in theory be carbon neutral, or close to it.
But if you capture and sequester the greenhouse gases from a bioenergy plant, you can make the whole system carbon negative while also making heat, electricity, and fuels. The more crops you plant, burn, and sequester, the more carbon dioxide you remove from the air. That’s the logic behind bioenergy with carbon capture and sequestration (BECCS).

A schematic of how bioenergy with carbon capture and sequestration (BECCS) leads to negative emissions.
This has the added benefit of producing something you can sell to pay for the system. However, the same constraints that apply to afforestation also apply here. To limit global warming to 2 degrees Celsius using BECCS, one estimate found that it would require biomass planted over an area larger than India.
And fighting climate change with BECCS requires producers to be very picky about their biomass sources. If you cut down an old tree to burn and replace it with a sapling, it will take years before the new plant will be able to absorb the same amount of carbon dioxide as its predecessor. This limits the kinds trees, crops, and grasses that can be used sustainably for BECCS.

Direct air capture of carbon dioxide is already underway
While carbon dioxide is at its highest levels in recorded history, the concentration is just 410 parts per million, about 0.04 percent of the atmosphere.
That means that building a machine to scrub carbon dioxide straight from the air is an immense challenge: Filtering it out requires moving a huge volume of air through a scrubber, which requires a lot of energy.
Nonetheless, there are companies that have already pulled this off. Carbon Engineering in Canada has built a plant that captures about 1 ton of carbon dioxide per day. Meanwhile Climeworks is running three direct air capture plants — in Iceland, Switzerland, and Italy — together capturing 1,100 tons of carbon dioxide per year.
What do you do with this carbon dioxide once you have it? Carbon engineering is working on an air to fuels pathway. In Iceland, Climeworks is turning its captured carbon dioxide into basalt rock, while in Switzerland the gas is used as a fertilizer in a greenhouse, and in Italy, the company is using the carbon dioxide to make methane fuel for trucks.
But right now, we’re only talking capture on the scale of hundreds of tons. Remember, the IPCC’s low-end estimate for the amount of carbon capture we need by 2100 is 100 gigatons. That’s 100,000,000,000 tons of carbon dioxide. So we would need more than 800,000 times our current annual direct air capture capacity by 2100 if we’re going to rely on this method alone to limit warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius.

Carbon dioxide removal is not a get out of jail free card for climate change
This is by no means an exhaustive list of carbon dioxide removal tactics. Scientists are also exploring how to extract carbon from the air with seawater as well as enhanced weathering of rocks so that they react with atmospheric carbon dioxide.
But getting governments and companies to invest in these technologies requires a price on carbon. Direct air capture, for example, would be especially useful for offsetting some of the hardest sectors to decarbonize, like air travel. However, companies estimate it costs about $100 per ton to withdraw carbon dioxide from the air, so a carbon price would have to be higher than that. Or the technology has to become much, much cheaper.
As noted above, there are commercial uses for captured carbon dioxide that can offset the price tag. Right now though, one of the most common uses for captured carbon dioxide is enhanced oil recovery. For example, the world’s largest carbon capture facility is at the Petra Nova coal plant in Texas. The captured carbon is sold to an oil producer to help extract more oil from a nearby well. Now, Petra Nova’s carbon dioxide is scrubbed from a flue, not directly from the air like direct air capture, but enhanced oil recovery was a key part of the business case for the plant.
So it’s capturing carbon dioxide and injecting it underground ... to extract more carbon.
That means we need coordinated policies with climate change at the center to make carbon dioxide removal work to fight warming. In addition to pricing carbon, it would require pricing ecosystem services, research and development grants, and tax credits to encourage deployment of carbon dioxide removal.
And, as the National Academies points out, the heavy lifting will still come from accelerating the entire suite of low-emissions technology at the same time, from energy efficiency to renewables, as the chart below shows.
Carbon dioxide removal is only a small piece of the climate change puzzle.
National Academies of Sciences/United Nations Environment Programme
Only then will carbon removal truly start to have an impact in the fight against climate change.

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