07/01/2021

These Stunning NASA Satellite Images Capture 2020's Extreme Climate Events

CNN - Amy Woodyatt

Dramatic video shows bushfire overtake firefighters 00:52 Source: CNN

As we move into the new year, it's easy to see that things changed for a lot of people in 2020.

Alongside a deadly pandemic, 2020 also delivered reminders of the severity of the climate crisis facing the world -- droughts, floods, heatwaves, wildfires and hurricanes continued to disrupt life for communities across the globe, in addition to and in spite of the challenges brought by Covid-19.

Images of some of these climate events -- visually stunning and sobering in equal measure -- have been captured by NASA's fleet of Earth-observing satellites and instruments found on the International Space Station.

Unprecedented wildfires


On this day last year, NASA's Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer captured images of thick, tan-colored smoke drifting across Southeastern Australia, taken as the country was ravaged by one of its worst wildfire seasons on record.

Fire season in Australia is always dangerous -- but conditions were unusually severe in 2020, fanning the flames and making firefighting conditions particularly difficult.

Experts say climate change has worsened the scope and impact of natural disasters like fires and floods -- weather conditions are growing more extreme, and, for years, and fires have been starting earlier in the season and spreading with greater intensity.

This natural-color image of Southeastern Australia was acquired on January 4, 2020 by the Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer on NASA's Aqua satellite.

2020 was also a year to remember for many residents of US West Coast states, where deadly wildfires in California, Oregon and Washington forced tens of thousands of people into shelters amid the coronavirus pandemic.

In the image below, captured on September 9, a thick blanket of smoke can be seen along the West Coast.

"Climate and fire scientists have long anticipated that fires in the U.S. West would grow larger, more intense, and more dangerous. But even the most experienced among them have been at a loss for words in describing the scope and intensity of the fires burning in West Coast states during September 2020," NASA said.

This image shows North America on September 9, 2020, as a thick blanket of smoke covered the West Coast.

Several of this year's fires were triggered by lightning, but extreme conditions including record-breaking temperatures, dry air, fierce winds and drought caused the fires to wreak havoc on nearby forests, and, eventually, homes.

The Visible Infrared Imaging Radiometer Suite (VIIRS) and the Ozone Mapping and Profiler Suite (OMPS) sensors, found on the NOAA-NASA Suomi NPP satellite, collected daily images of thick plumes of aerosol particles blowing throughout the US West, which, according to NASA, was on a scale that satellites and scientists rarely see.

Drought

On July 3, 2020, the Operational Land Imager on Landsat 8 captured this false-color image of the river near Rosario, a key port city in Argentina.

Though this picture seems to show a lush and green oasis, the image, captured by NASA's Landsat, actually reveals the parched river basin of Argentina's Paraná River.
2020 was meant to be the year of climate action. Instead, it crowned a wasted decade


An extended period of unusually warm weather and drought in southern Brazil, Paraguay and Northern Argentina caused the river to drop to its lowest levels in decades. 

Not only has the drought contributed to an increase in fire activity in the surrounding delta and floodplain areas, but it has also affected local businesses and residents, with ships grounded and low water levels costing millions of dollars in the grain industry.

Human activity has been linked to the world's risk of drought since the start of the 20th century: Greenhouse gases generated by power plants, farming, cars, trains and human activities in general have influenced the risk of droughts, and experts predict that drought linked to climate change will worsen.

Hurricanes


Hurricane Laura, one of the 10 strongest hurricanes to make landfall in the US, swept through southwestern Louisiana in August, killing at least six and leaving a wide path of destruction it its wake.

The 2020 Atlantic hurricane season was the most active on record, and many of the storms that slammed into the Gulf Coast, Central America and the Caribbean last year showed signs that they were supercharged by global warming.

The Visible Infrared Imaging Radiometer Suite (VIIRS) on NOAA-20 acquired this image of Hurricane Laura at 2:20 a.m. Central Daylight Time on August 26, 2020.

In the image above, captured by the VIIRS on the NOAA-20 satellite, the storm looms off the US coastline, highlighted by the darkness of night, while clouds are shown in infrared using brightness temperature data, and overlaid onto imagery showing city lights. 

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7 Graphics That Show Why The Arctic Is In Trouble

Gizmodo - Jody Serrano

A lake of meltwater forms on the Greenland ice sheet near Sermeq Avangnardleq Glacier. (Photo: Sean Gallup, Getty Images)

It’s no secret that the Arctic is in trouble. And while the worrying state of the ice in the region has made numerous headlines this year, they’re just the latest twists and turns in a long-term trend.

One of the best gauges for putting what’s happening in the region into perspective is the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Arctic Report Card, a compilation of environmental observations and analyses that the agency has been producing annually for 15 years.

It was released earlier this month, providing an in-depth look at the Arctic’s struggles as the climate crisis reshapes the region. But if you’re more of a visual person, NOAA made these neat — although worrying — graphics to help get a handle on what’s happened this past year and how it fits into the bigger picture.

Join us as we take a dive into a series of graphics that highlight key findings of the Arctic Report Card, and explain why you should care about what happens up there.

Ice on Land Continues to Dwindle

The Greenland ice sheet lost mass again in 2020, but not as much as it did 2019. Adapted from the 2020 Arctic Report Card, this graph tracks Greenland mass loss measured by NASA's GRACE satellite missions since 2002. (Graphic: NOAA)

If the ice that blankets Greenland completely melts away, global sea levels would rise by 24 feet (7 meters).

While it won’t all disappear overnight or even in the next few decades, recent trends paint a very worrying picture. Since 2002, the Greenland ice sheet has lost roughly 268 billion metric tons of ice per year on average.

 The annual record for ice loss occurred in 2019, which saw 532 billion metric tons vanish due to a staggering heat wave and bizarrely sunny skies. The loss raised ocean levels by 0.01 inches (1.5 millimetres), per the Arctic Report Card.

That seemingly small rise is both a reminder that the sea level has risen roughly a foot (30 centimeters) since the start of the Industrial Revolution and a harbinger of what’s to come. The rate of rise is on track to quicken this century as the ice on Greenland, along with glaciers elsewhere, and the massive Antarctic ice sheet continue to melt.


Sea level rise is already harming coastal infrastructure, and the impacts will worsen in the future. But the melting ice sheet isn’t the only warning sign of what’s happening as temperatures rise in the Arctic.

The Arctic Is Losing a Startling Amount of Sea Ice in the Summer

Arctic sea ice concentration on September 15, 2020 — the day of the smallest extent of the year — compared to the median extent (gold line) reached on this date in Septembers from 1981 to 2010. (Graphic: NOAA)

Though it doesn’t contribute to sea level rise since it’s already floating, Arctic sea ice is yet another indicator of the massive changes afoot.

This year’s sea ice cover reached its second-smallest summer minimum on record, clocking in at just 1.44 million square miles (3.74 million square kilometers). The lowest ever minimum extent to date during the satellite era, or 1.32 million square miles (3.41 million kilometers), was recorded in 2012.

But this year’s annual summer minimum is just one startling aspect of a problem that goes back decades and is in fact more impactful if you look at it with a wider lens.

The graphic above highlights the dramatic reduction of sea ice extent in just a few years. The gold line is the median ice extent for 1981-2010, in which half of the years had smaller extents and half had larger.

Meanwhile, the light blue to white area represents the sea ice concentration on Sept. 15 of this year, the day of the summer minimum extent.

According to the Arctic Report Card, the downward trend for the summer minimum in 2020 is 13.1% per decade relative to the 1981-2010 average.

In Fact, It Has Lost an Area of Summer Sea Ice Larger Than 40 Maines

A graph of daily ice extent since 2005. Years 2005-2009 are light purple, the record-low year 2012 is salmon, other years for 2010-2014 are light green, and years 2015-2019 are blue. The 2020 daily extent line is in black. (Graphic: NOAA)

Another way to analyse Arctic ice is to think about the state of Maine. Yes, you read that right. As you can see in the graph above, the downward trend for the summer minimum extent is clear.

The 13.1% dip per decade relative to the 1981–2010 average tells some of the story. Each year that averages out to about 32,000 square miles (82,700 square kilometres) of ice lost. That’s roughly the size of Maine. So over the past four decades of satellite records, we’ve lost 40 Maines-worth of ice.

You can also divide the satellite sea ice record into thirds, which still shows that the average minimum extent for each third has been successively declining, with an especially dramatic dip from 2007-2020.

From 1979-1992, the average minimum extent was 2.64 million square miles (6.85 million square kilometres); for 1993-2006, it was 2.37 million square miles (6.13 million square kilometres); and for 2007-2020, it was 1.71 million square miles (4.44 million square kilometres).

Though the rate of loss has slowed over the past 14 years, the Report Card notes this “reflects a changed Arctic with consistently low extent throughout the period;” the 14 lowest extents in the satellite era have all occurred in the last 14 years.

The Ice That Remains Is Younger

The age of sea ice in the Arctic at winter maximum in 2000 (left, week of March 18) and 2020 (right, week of March 21). (Graphic: NOAA)

It’s not just the extent of the sea ice that has changed, it’s also the character. Arctic sea ice has gotten dramatically younger. As NOAA explains, when it comes to ice, age refers to thickness and durability. Young ice is thinner and more likely to melt in the summer.

Older ice — which is typically four years or older — is ice that survives year-round and keeps thickening over time. Per the National Snow and Ice Data Centre, old ice can grow to be between six and 25-feet (1.8 to 7.6 meters) thick.

As you can see in the graphic, older ice in the Arctic is a sliver of what it once was. In 1985, 33% of ice in the Arctic was very old ice; in March 2020, only 4.4% of the sea ice was old.

According to NOAA, 20 to 30 years ago, the sea ice on the Arctic was dominated by old sea ice. As time went by though, old ice drifted out of the Arctic through the Fram Strait where it melted in the relatively warmer waters of the Atlantic.

This wasn’t a problem then, as new batches of old ice were created in the Beaufort Gyre, which NOAA describes a “nursery” for young ice to grow thicker and stronger as it drifts around for many years. Today, summers in the southern branch of the Beaufort Gyre are often too warm for ice to survive, the agency said.

To use a phrase from the NSIDC, this “Benjamin Button ice” is an element in dangerous cycle, one in which increasing air and ocean temperatures more easily destroy first-year ice and weaken older ice.

If this cycle continues and older ice disappears from the Arctic Ocean, the world may see ice-free summers in the Arctic as early as 2030.

The Northern High Latitudes Are More Flammable

Rising surface temperatures have made fire fuels in Northern Hemisphere high latitudes more flammable over the past 41 years. This map shows the June trend (1979–2019) in the build-up index. Brown indicates increasing flammability; purple indicates decreasing flammability. (Graphic: NOAA)

We not only have the melting ice to worry about. We also have to stress about the opposite: fire.

According to the Arctic Report Card, rising surface temperatures in Northern Hemisphere high latitudes have made fire fuels — organic matter on the ground or above the surface such as trees and peat that will ignite and burn — more flammable over the past 41 years.

You can see this clearly in the graphic above, which shows the buildup index trend in June from 1979-2019. Brown indicates increasing flammability, while purple indicates decreasing flammability.

The buildup index is an element of the Canadian Forest Fire Danger Rating System. It consists of a numerical rating of fuel available to catch fire and considers surface temperature, relative humidity, and 24-hour rainfall totals.

When the buildup index reaches certain levels, fires can burn more aggressively and intensely. The graphic indicates that the widespread increase in the buildup index in June at higher latitudes in both North America and Asia reflects that conditions are becoming more favourable for fire growth.

Trends in the availability of dry, flammable fuels for wildfire growth are consistent with what we’ve seen on the ground in recent years as well as projections for the next century.

Multiple climate scenarios project that there could be up to a fourfold increase in burned area across the higher northern latitude ecosystem by 2100.

The Oceans Are Hot, Too

Sea surface temperature trends in the Arctic from 1982–2020, showing where waters are warming (red and orange) and where they are cooling (blue). The grey line shows the median August sea ice extent, and the white areas show the ice extent in August 2020. (Graphic: NOAA)

Considering all of the red and orange, you can probably guess what the graphic above reflects: rising sea surface temperatures in the Arctic in August, which is the peak of summer warmth.

The red and orange areas indicate where waters are warming, while the blue areas show where they are cooling. The white areas, meanwhile, reflect 2020’s sea ice extent, a dramatic reduction compared to the median ice extent from 1981 to 2010, shown by the grey line.

According to Arctic Report Card, basin-wide sea surface temperatures across the Arctic Ocean have been warming by 0.5 degrees Fahrenheit (0.3 degrees Celsius) per decade.

The situation is more drastic in many of the Arctic’s coastal areas, where August temperatures have been rising by as much as 1.8 degrees Fahrenheit (1 degree Celsius) per decade.

The Chukchi Sea to the northwest of Alaska stands out for its especially strong warming as do parts of Hudson Bay. One notable exception, however, is the northern Barents Sea, which has experienced a cooling trend.

Ocean warming in the Arctic creates all sorts of problems for the region. More heats leads to less sea ice, which in turn leads to more sunlight being absorbed by the ocean, which consequently causes more ocean warming.

Warmer oceans also delay fall freeze-up, affecting Indigenous peoples’ hunting and fishing activities while also making coastal areas more vulnerable to damaging waves during storms. It also reduces the amount of carbon dioxide the ocean absorbs from the atmosphere.

What Happens When You Lose Sea Ice

(left) Sea ice concentration in July 2020 compared to the 2003–2019 average. Red areas had up to 100% less than their average sea ice, while blue regions had up to 100% more ice than average.
(right) Chlorophyll amounts — an indicator of ocean plant productivity — in July 2020 as a per cent of the 2003–2019 average.
(Graphic: NOAA)

The loss of summer sea ice has increased the productivity of microscopic ocean plants in seven of the nine regions analysed by experts (the Sea of Okhotsk and Bering Sea showed lower than average values, although both still showed a positive increase over the 2003-2020 period).

These include single-celled algae that live in sea ice, known as ice algae, and in the water column, which are phytoplankton. These algae are the base of the Arctic food chain and they rely on sunlight to survive.

Scientists measure the activity of these plants by using satellite-based observations of chlorophyll, the photosynthetic green pigment phytoplankton use to capture sunlight and then turn it into chemical energy, as a proxy for phytoplankton productivity.

The graphic above from shows the connection between sea ice concentration and chlorophyll concentration. The key to understanding it is the following: Below-average sea ice generally correlates with above-average chlorophyll.

Scientists have found that the early retreat of sea ice generally drives up primary productivity, the rate at which marine algae dissolve inorganic carbon into organic material, because it opens up the oceans to sunlight sooner.

But more plants might not necessarily be a good thing. Changes that are helpful for one species can be harmful to others.

Research suggests, for example, that the increase in plant production has contributed to an increase in the bowhead whale population in the Pacific Arctic.

At the same time, however, algae species that produce deadly neurotoxins are spreading poleward, per the Arctic Report Card.

The defining message of the Arctic Report Card is that what once was is no more.

If we don’t drawdown emissions, those changes could occur even faster and put even more pressure on the ecosystems and people who call the fragile region home.

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2020 Was A Year Of Climate Extremes. What Can We Expect In 2021?

TIMECiara Nugent

2020: A Year in Review 2:23

2020 was a year of extreme weather around the world. Hot and dry conditions drove record-setting wildfires through vast areas of Australia, California and Brazil and Siberia.

A record-breaking Atlantic hurricane season landed a double blow of two hugely destructive storms in Central America.

Long-running droughts have destroyed agricultural output and helped to push millions into hunger in Zimbabwe and Madagascar.

A super-cyclone unleashed massive floods on India and Bangladesh.

 And overall, 2020 may end up the hottest year on record—despite a La Niña event, the ocean-atmospheric phenomenon which normally temporarily cools things down.

Though it’s historically been difficult to say if single weather events were directly caused by climate change, scientists have proven that many of the events that took place in 2020 would have been far less likely, or even impossible, without changes to the climate that are being driven by the warming of the Earth.

Thanks to increasing levels of heat-absorbing greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, global average temperatures last year were 1.15°C over the pre-industrial era.

Depending on how quickly we can reduce our emissions of these gases, the global average temperature increase is expected to be anywhere between 1.5°C and 5°C by 2100.

While emissions dipped briefly during the first COVID-19 lockdowns, they have now rebounded to close to 2019 levels.

A rise of a few degrees may not sound like much, but it has huge implications for the weather we’ll see in the coming years, says Daniel Swain, a climate scientist at UCLA focused on the links between climate change and extreme weather.

“It’s a number that is describing really profound and vast changes in the climate system that we feel mostly through individual weather events and through extreme events.”

It’s impossible to know if 2021 will be as record-breaking as 2020, but it’s highly likely that more extremes are on the way.

“From one year to the next, there’s still a lot of random variation superimposed on top of the long term trends,” Swain says. “While 2020 may have been a particularly extreme year in contrast to individual years in the past, scientifically and looking forward, what’s more meaningful is that 2020 was not really an aberration.”

Here’s what to expect from the climate next year—and what is likely to happen with the greenhouse gas emissions that are driving the changes.

A view of the vast flooding in Guatemala, after Hurricanes Eta and Iota struck one after the other, on Nov. 26, 2020. Daniele Volpe—The New York Times/Redux

Hurricanes and storms

2020’s Atlantic hurricane season saw a record number of 30 named storms, including 13 hurricanes.

In September, Hurricane Sally battered Florida and Alabama, cutting power to more than half a million homes.

In November, Hurricanes Eta and Iota hit Honduras, Nicaragua, Guatemala and other Central American countries in close succession, submerging towns, destroying infrastructure and farmlands, and killing dozens across the region.

Climate scientists aren’t sure if climate change will cause an increase in the number of hurricanes generally. But climate change is affecting the characteristics of hurricanes and making them more destructive. They are likely to be more intense, carrying higher wind speeds and heavier rains, according to the Union of Concerned Scientists.

This year’s very active hurricane season was in part driven by La Niña, the ocean-atmospheric phenomenon, a counterpart to El Niño, which results in temporarily lower ocean surface temperatures across the central and eastern equatorial Pacific Ocean and atmospheric changes, creating favorable conditions for hurricanes.

Early predictions for the 2021 Atlantic hurricane season published by meteorologists at Colorado State University suggest there is a 6 in 10 chance that the season will be very strong or above average.

A view of bushfire-ravaged Flinders Chase National Park on Kangaroo Island, South Australia, in January 2020. Adam Ferguson for TIME

High temperatures, wildfires and droughts

Globally, 2020 is currently tied with 2016 as the warmest year on record. Even if it takes second place, that is remarkable given the occurrence of La Niña this year, which tends to lower temperatures, and the fact that 2016 was an El Niño year, when temperatures are generally warmer.

There is reason to believe that 2021 may be slightly cooler, says Swain, since La Niña conditions are expected to continue through to March.

“It may be that some of the cooling effect of this La Niña will be felt a little bit more next year than this year. But it’ll still be quite likely to be among the top five warmest years on record, because we just aren’t really seeing we just aren’t really seeing any of the kinds of cooler years that we saw even 30 or 40 years ago anymore.”

La Niña doesn’t affect the whole of the U.S. in the same way. It tends to lower winter temperatures in the northwest of the country, and increase them in the southeast.

In its outlook for winter, up to the end of February, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration predicted below average precipitation and a worsening of drought conditions across many southern states.

We are likely to see more episodes of extreme heat than we are used to in the coming years, scientists say, because they have been made far more likely on a warming planet. Studies found that climate change made Europe’s 2019 heatwave up to 100 times more likely, for example.

When high temperatures combine with dry conditions, strong winds and an abundance of vegetation as fuel, wildfires become highly likely.

In January, Australia’s record-breaking temperatures and prolonged droughts drove bushfires burned more than 27 million acres across the country, and destroyed thousands of homes.

California’s 2020 wildfires burned more than 4 million acres by October, double the state’s previous record.

Again, it’s impossible to know if 2021 will beat the new records set in 2020. But it’s clear that increased wildfires are a part of our future.

A group of California-based scientists, including Swain, found that since the early 1980’s, climate change had doubled the frequency of days with extreme fire weather in Autumn in the state. Previous studies have shown that fire seasons are getting longer as the world heats up.

Arctic melting

2020 was the second biggest year for Arctic ice melting after 2012—which is considered an outlier because of a destructive late-season cyclone.

Worryingly, scientists say 2020’s sea ice melt followed a similar trajectory to 2012, without any such storm.

And this was the first year since records began that Arctic sea ice had not started to freeze over by late October.

The Arctic is warming faster than the rest of the planet, with a one degree rise in the average yearly temperature every decade for the last 40 years.

As a result, scientists say we are likely to see increasingly faster melting and slower freezing each year.

By 2035, a study published this August in Nature Climate Change found, it is likely that the Arctic ocean will be ice-free in summer.

Carbon emissions

When it comes to the greenhouse gas emissions that are driving the changes we are seeing in our climate, 2020 has been an anomaly.

Global emissions of carbon dioxide, the most important greenhouse gas, reached a new peak in 2019 – though they were just slightly above 2018 levels, raising hopes that emissions were levelling off.

But this year they are expected to fall by up to 7% as a result of the drops in activity during the first COVID-19 lockdowns in March and April.

Coincidentally, 7% is the amount by which the U.N. says we’d need to cut carbon emissions every year for the next decade in order to keep in line with the Paris Agreement, which aims to keep global average temperatures from increasing more than 1.5°C over the pre-industrial era.

But we shouldn’t expect the reductions to hold in 2021, says Glen Peters, research director at the Oslo-based Center for International Climate Research.

“A few months ago, I would have expected that it would take a few years to slowly edge back to 2019 levels. And hopefully, during that time, emissions reductions would start to take effect,” he says. “But now, the monthly data suggests that emissions have almost come back to 2019 levels now.”

With governments likely to spend large amounts of money to get economies going again, Peters says emissions are likely to bounce back quite strongly. He expects emissions in 2021 to be roughly the same as in 2019.

But the nature of recovery packages that governments roll out will be decisive to the trajectory of emissions—and climate change—longer-term.

“If these packages are green, and include lots of stimulus for renewable energies like solar, for example, they’ll give you a spike in emissions next year to build all the solar, and you would reap the benefits in the years later,” Peters says. “It’s a question of whether the recovery packages set future reductions in motion.”

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