Dawn in DC: a blue grey hazy light filters down from the sky, just enough to illuminate the falling snow. I know that I'm not alone when it comes to being a bit tired of this snow. This is our sixth day in a row of being hemmed in. It's pretty profound, and the masses are starting to murmur with their frustration.

I'm astonished at how paralyzed the city is. It's really stunning. The federal government has been shut down every day this week, and according to the Office of Personal Management, it's costing $100 million a day in lost productivity. I was shocked to see that the Post Office didn't deliver mail at all on Saturday. What? The "Neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor dead of night..." crew called in frozen?

The snow has been falling all night, and not even once did I wake up to the sound of plows scraping their way down the street. I don't get it: where are the snowplows? Walking over to Woodley Park yesterday to ease the cabin fever, the weather was fine (as it was Sunday and Monday), and yet the streets were ankle-deep in grey slush. The sidewalks were usually in better condition than the streets: individuals' efforts to improve their small stretch of the common space were effective. But the city's response to the snow has been quite lackluster, from my perspective. I'd be more sympathetic if I saw them out there working, but I haven't observed a single snowplow plowing. (To be fair: I did see one snowplow, blade in the air, spreading salt. Also, I've been spending most of my time indoors, but I can see and hear the road.)

Salt supplies are running low, says the rumor mill. I believe it. Patience is running low, too. I'm at least thankful that here in the city, we haven't lost power, unlike many of my friends, colleagues, and students out in the suburbs.

Yesterday, when I was reflecting on people's thinking about the storm, I mentioned Haiti. I'd like to bring that up again today, and explore it from a different angle. The earthquake in Haiti was horrible and devastating, but it was (a) predicted, and (b) the equivalent of a large-magnitude earthquake that could occur elsewhere, like the Pacific Northwest or California. Yet it was really, really bad in Haiti, while the same magnitude quake, at the same depth, the same distance from San Francisco wouldn't be nearly as destructive. Why? Simple: the people of San Francisco are more prepared for earthquakes. A nation as rich as the United States, and a state as (formerly) wealthy as California, has the power to study earthquakes and their causes, to pass laws requiring buildings to be structurally capable of standing up to serious shaking, and the power to enforce those laws. Haiti's populaiton isn't so lucky: their unreinforced masonry buildings collapse readily when they get sheared; people die as a result.

Which brings me back to DC. While it's no Port-au-Prince, it's a big freaking mess that's not getting cleaned up anytime soon. This same snowstorm could hit Minnesota or South Dakota or Anchorage and I don't think anyone would really bat an eye. When I lived in Homer, Alaska, storms like this seemed to come around once a month or so. The difference was that people there had four-wheel-drive (and knew what that meant, unlike some of my SUV-driving neighbors inside the Beltway), studded tires, experience driving in snow, and a prepared attitude. The weather was the same; we just dealt with it better up there. Many private trucks had plows on front, and it was seen as a civic duty to plow out the road if you were the first one to drive down it after a storm*.

The culture of the DC area is as unprepared to deal with snow as Homer would be to deal with 100 degree F heat and 100% humidity. DC deals with mugginess like that every summer, though, so though it's a pain, it's not a catastrophe. Each area develops precautions and procedures based on the variations that nature typically throws its way. We make predictions based on the past. When something novel arrives, chaos breaks out, official services get disrupted, and it's up to the individual citizens to clean up the mess and look after one another.

Nature doesn't make disasters, in other words. We do.
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* One time in Homer, I drove my pickup truck (which did not have a plow) down the road after about 2 feet of snow had fallen. I was the first one there, and I just charged on through. After I had gone about half a mile, my engine died. Surprised, I got out and shuffled forward to pop the hood. The entire engine block was surrounded by snow! As I was driving forward, there was nowhere for the snow to go except into the airy interstices under the hood. There was so much snow that the engine's air intake was blocked. I cleared it out (poking it with an ice axe I kept in the car) and started the engine up again, no problem. Then I drove on to work.

PS - Here's a gallery of images from the Washington Post.

Labels: alaska, dc, earthquakes, haiti, snow

This is beautiful: That's an image by Chris Waythomas of the USGS, hosted by the Alaska Volcano Observatory website. It shows a cutbank (river-eroded alluvium deposit) along Rust Slough, south of the Drift River Oil Terminal, northeast of Redoubt Volcano. The sediments exposed were deposited on March 22, 2009 by a lahar (volcanic mudflow). The lahar deposit is 2.5 m thick. When I saw this image tonight (as I was searching for another shot), I was particularly struck by the subrounded clasts of ice in the mud. Here is ice acting the part that chunks of rock usually play. Technically, ice is a mineral, and so these chunks are sedimentary clasts much like any other... But to me there's something distinctly different about seeing ice cobbles and pebbles included in a sedimentary deposit. On a planet as warm as Earth, this sort of thing isn't likely to be preserved in the geologic record. It would melt! ...And that gets me thinking about other planets and planet-like objects, like Titan. The Huygens probe took pictures of sedimentary clasts, presumably of ice, on the surface of that moon. Other cold locations could have CO2 ice ("dry ice"): That makes for the sort of rock specimen that would be really difficult to keep on your shelf as a 'deskcrop'...

An additional thought: how could the former presence of icy clasts have influenced the geologic record? Perhaps ice clasts were an integral part of a deposit as it was laid down... but then later the ice melts away. How could we detect and control for this?

Labels: alaska, CO2, ice, satellite imagery, sediment, volcano

Last Friday, I went to a briefing in the Cannon House Office Building on Capitol Hill about adaptation to climate change. I present here a transcription of my notes as a quick, unpolished rundown of what was discussed there. It may be of interest to you.

The speakers, their titles, and their topics were:

• Michael MacCracken, Chief Scientist for Climate Change Programs, the Climate Institute: Projected impacts of Climate Change on the United States


• Kristie L. Ebi, Executive Director, Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Working Group 2 Technical Support Unit - Impacts, Adaptation, and Vulnerability: Adaptation


• Katharine L. Jacobs, Professor, University of Arizona Soil, Water and Environmental Science Department: Adaptation to water resource changes


• Susanne Moser, Director and Principal Researcher, Susanne Moser Research & Consulting: California as a case-study in adaptation planning

MacCracken was first up, and gave [what I was surely biased to percieve as] the most compelling talk. I felt this way not because he was the only dude, but because he was talking science, while everyone else was talking adaptation -- how humans should/can/might respond to climate change -- a topic I find fundamentally less interesting than the science. However, I'm teaching environmental geology again this semester, and having some clue as to policy options is a part of my job. That's why I went. Citing the IPCC and a UNEP report (reproduced above because I think its cover design is pretty clever), MacCracken informed us that the overall projections for North America is that it will get wetter in the north and drier in the south. He noted that there is less confidence in precipitation projections than there is in temperature projections. Water is going to be one of the most important aspects of climate change, MacCracken asserted. Tangentially, he also suggested that the large amount of snow we're seeing in the U.S. this winter has to do with less ice cover on the Great Lakes (encouraging evaporation and precipitaiton as snow). He showed a cool graph of corn yields over time, showing the crop's susceptibility to extreme climate events (superimposed on an overall upward trend). I found this to be interesting, and coveted the graph. [Eventually, all the speakers' PowerPoints will be available at the AMS Climate Briefing site - but they are not there yet.] He showed some good graphs showing projections of sea level rise under high, medium, and low emissions scenarios. He also cited Isabella Velicogna (2009), displaying graphs which show estimates of ice mass loss from Greenland and Antarctica. (I need to get a copy of these images: very compelling! The Way Things Break discussed them in October, when they were first published.) Finally, he brought up ecosystem changes, showing us maps of the spruce bark beetle infestation on the Kenai Peninsula of Alaska (a forest catastrophe I have seen firsthand).

Ebi spoke quietly about adaptation in general. Adaptation is in contrast to mitigation, which is what most people spend their climate time talking about: Mitigation attempts to prevent future climate change (by limiting emissions of CO2 or by capturing CO2 and sequestering it), while adaptation says, "given a certain level of climate change, what do we do in order to maximize human welfare?") She noted that the impacts we face are entirely contingent upon which adaptation strategies we adopt: a given quantum of climate change will have different effects upon identical communities which adopt different levels of adaptation. Ergo, adaptation is important, and we really need to start talking about it. She made the claim that the federal Stimulus package was a major missed opportunity, as major infrastructural investment was made without consideration as to whether long-term infrastructure should be modified or moved. For instance, before rebuilding a bridge, perhaps we should be asking ourselves if it should be taller, or before repaving a coastal road, we should perhaps consider moving it to a higher elevation where it is likely to last longer. She gave a compelling example of Barbados (I think), where coastal mapping showed that with year 2100 projections for sea-level rise plus a category-3 hurricane, the portion of Barbados' coast to be flooded will include both the power plant and the coastal road! While Barbados has been proactive in addressing these issues, Ebi says the U.S. has not. Adaptation, she argued, is nothing more than iterative risk management. She gave a list of criteria necessary for action, and you can see that the U.S. is falling short of the minimum threshold for action on many of them:

• an awareness of the problem
• an understanding of the causes
• a sense that the problem matters
• a capability to influence outcomes
• political will to deal with the problem

The third expert to speak was Kathy Jacobs. She pointed out that many of the projected impacts of climate change will be delivered, one way or another, via the water cycle. One example she gave that caught my attention was the declining amount of snowpack in the western U.S. Historically, this snowpack has been a fundamental reservoir of water during the summer months, and as it melts away, we are going to need to build artificial reservoirs to compensate. She noted that this sort of adaptation is uniquely human: ecosystems do not have the foresight or ability to build reservoirs and the like -- so if we want those ecosystems to continue to function, we will have to do their planning, too. She discussed the Colorado River, which is estimated to decline somewhere between 11% and 40% at the same time demand for its water is increasing. She said, "We may not know the magnitude or the rate of change [in Colorado River discharge], but we know the direction of change" (i.e., downward). The comment she made that impressed me the most was that the current uncertainty (in U.S. society) about whether climate change is real is blocking action. She was citing the frequently-made argument that because we don't understand everything about climate change, we shouldn't take any action. "Yet we make decisions with imperfect information all the time," she said. "Climate change shouldn't be any different. We need to get past that." She made two final points: (1) that there is no silver bullet solution to our burgeoning water resources crisis ["We will need a broad portfolio approach" including things like desalination], and (2) Many of the current water technologies are energy intensive, and these technologies will be less attractive in the future because of their carbon cost.

Susanne Moser was the last one at bat. She detailed California's response to the question of adaptation. It was an interesting case study, because under the leadership of Governor Schwarzenegger, an office was formed to examine what adaptation might mean for the Golden State. This office provides bi-annual updates to the government of California on the state of the science. They are the only state to do this, so far (though ~a dozen other states have taken less decisive measures). Unfortunately, "California is also adapting to bankruptcy," and so really this golden example of adaptation is hamstrung by economic constraints: It is really only a baby step.

I enjoyed the briefing. It was the sixth or seventh AMS-sponsored briefing I've attended on Capitol Hill, and it was informative as always. Typing up these notes reminds me how useful it was. I'd like to thank AMS for making these sessions open to the general public, and for providing lunch to all the participants.

Labels: alaska, antarctica, art, barbados, california, climate change, CO2, dc, global warming, graphics, greenland, politics, science and society, water resources

Labels: alaska, climate change, global warming, humor, oil

Last night, I took a group of Honors students to the United States Geological Survey's National Center in Reston, Virginia, for a public lecture by Bruce Molnia about Alaska's disappearing glaciers. The talk was all well & good, but a nice little surprise came afterwards, when Jared noticed a display in the lobby of the Dallas Peck Memorial Auditorium:

That's the classic "ancient Chinese seismograph" featured in so many introductory geology textbooks as the lead-in to their chapters on earthquakes and seismology. Pretty cool to see it in the flesh brass.

The way it works is that each of the little dragon heads projecting off the urn had a little brass ball in its mouth. If it got shaken by an earthquake, that little brass ball would pop out and into the waiting mouth of the little brass frog down below. The frogs aligned with the wave propogation direction would be the ones to be "fed." This implication of the temblor's source direction would allow authorities to direct scouts and relief operations to the appropriate corner of the dynasty.

Neat!

Labels: alaska, earthquakes, gear, glaciation, nova, rept, teaching

After we had collectively collected a hundred pounds of samples from Mineral Hill, the final stop on the University of Maryland petrology trip was in scenic Ellicott City, Maryland, where we visited the Ellicott City Granodiorite (map to outcrops).

Like everything else on this trip, the ECGD is intimately tied in with the Taconian Orogeny (late Ordovician; caused by the collision of ancestral North America with a volcanic island arc in the Iapetus Ocean basin). However, unlike the Port Deposit Tonalite we looked at early in the trip, this one crystalized from magma at 435 +/- 15 Ma (U/Pb in zircon). It is not only much younger than the PDT, but it's also pretty young even for the Taconian Orogeny, which reached its peak around 460 Ma.

It's more potassic than the Port Deposit Tonalite, as these K-spar 'megacrysts' show:


This potassium feldspar 'megacryst' shows internal growth laminations, as small mafic bits got caught up in the growing feldspar crystal, which consumed and included them:

Not only does this help us see how the feldspar crystal's habit is a reflection of its internal structure, but it's also an example of the principle of relative dating by inclusions, expressed in a single mineral crystal! Pretty cool.

As with the PDT, xenoliths may be seen in the ECGD:


Parts of it are equigranular, and parts of it are highly foliated:


And of course my eye is always drawn to the structures, like these small faults offsetting dikes of granite which cross-cut the ECGD:




The real prize with the Ellicott City Granodiorite is to view first-hand the magmatic epidote it bears:


Most epidote is metamorphic. However, as Zen and Hammerstrom (1984) showed that epidote could also crystalize from a late-phase magma as the melt interacted with hornblende at high pressures (8 kbar; roughly 30 km depth). You'll note in the photo above the intimate association between the epidote and the hornblende. (I'm not super-confident on my titanite identification, by the way; this rock also bears similar-looking allanite. Please correct me if I'm clearly wrong.) E-an Zen has guest-posted to this blog before, and once upon a time he tasked me with searching for magmatic epidote near Haines, Alaska, in 2006. I didn't find any, but it did pique my interest. So it felt good to be able to finally see some of this rare beast. I was surprised to find it locally, considering the the original magmatic epidote paper referred mainly to west coast plutons from California to Alaska. I was also suprised because of the tremendous depth of crystallization it implied: 30 kilometers down? Wild! I collected a sample for the NOVA lab.

Thanks again to Rich Walker and Roberta Rudnick for graciously hosting me on this trip. I learned a lot, and I'm greatful for the opportunity to expand my local outcrop knowledge.

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Reference:
E-an Zen and Jane M. Hammarstrom (1984). "Magmatic epidote and its petrologic significance." Geology, September 1984. Volume 12, no. 9, p. 515-518. DOI: 10.1130/0091-7613.

Labels: alaska, maryland, metamorphism, minerals, structure, xenoliths

One of my students, Rob M., forwarded this photo to me over the weekend:



He tells me his dad took it along the coast of Alaska. Pretty cool shot. Unlike most of the photos on this blog, you can click through to get a big version.

Thanks to Rob and his dad for permission to share the photo here!

Labels: alaska, glacial landforms, glaciation

This image came to my attention the other day via Lutz's Geoberg blog. It's one of the high-res images provided by the newly-launched satellite, the GeoEye-1, which is supplying new images to Google*. The image shows a marginal lake associated with an alpine glacier in Kenai Fjords National Park, Alaska (just south of Seward):


The top of the above image is not north; it's southwest. Mentally rotate it, and you can see that the resolution is a lot better than the current level on Google Earth and Google Maps:


The thing that struck me about the new GeoEye image, aside from its beauty, is the distinct pattern of iceberg sizes in the lake: freshly calved off the glacier, the biggest icebergs are close to their source, while further away the icebergs are smaller. This pattern struck me as being analogous to sediment. Fresh from its source, sedimentary particles are at their largest size, and the further away they travel, the more weathering they experience. This weathering (in particular of the physical variety) tends to break them down into smaller pieces. Adjacent to an orogenic belt, for instance, you tend to find deposition of sedimentary particles shed off the uplifting mountains. As a general rule, these are of the largest sizes and the greatest volume closest to the source, and then particle size and stratum thickness both diminish with increasing distance from the orogen.

For a North American example, consider the Catskill Clastic Wedge, a tick pile of sediments shed off the late Devonian Acadian Orogeny along the east coast. Here's a cross-sectional view** (pre-Alleghany Orogeny deformation) of the wedge, running from the Bay of Fundy west to Michigan:


Same pattern! Coarse stuff, and more volume of stuff, close to the source. Finer stuff, and less volume of stuff, further from the source. Just like the iceberg, except the weathering of the icebergs is mainly thermal, while the weathering of the sediments is physical, accompanied by depositional sorting by the transporting currents of water.

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* An original version of this post misidentified Google as the owners of the GeoEye-1, as opposed to the company called GeoEye, which sells images to Google. Thanks to Bruce Haley for the correction. (updated 8:14AM eastern time on Dec. 9, 2008)
** Image redrawn (by me) from an original in Prothero & Dott (2003).

Labels: alaska, analogies, art, canada, glacial landforms, glaciation, maine, michigan, mountains, new york, satellite imagery, sediment

Andy Revkin's Dot Earth blog alerted me to a significant milestone in Arctic melting: There is a continuous circle of water around the Arctic now: the Northwest Passage (north of North America) and the "Northeast Passage" (a.k.a. the Northern Sea Route, north of Eurasia) are both open at the same time, for the first time in recorded human history. The last time the Northern Sea Route was open was 2005, but the Northwest Passage wasn't open then. The Northwest Passage opened up last summer (2007), but the Northern Sea Route wasn't open then. This year is the first time in human history that you could sail a boat completely around the North Pole through open water... but you'd have to have a pretty fast boat (because it's going to start freezing up again within a couple of weeks).

The last month's worth of retreating sea ice data is shown in this animation loop.

Article in the Independent (U.K.)

Press release by the National Ice Center (Sept. 5):

"As of September 4, 2008, the Northern Sea Route (Northeast Passage) appears 'open'. According to the World Meteorological Organization (WMO), open water is defined as areas with less than 1/10th ice concentration (WMO Sea-Ice Nomenclature, 1970). National Ice Center (NIC) analysis of Synthetic Aperture Radar imagery suggests a 10-15km wide area of open water that winds along the Taymyr Peninsula and through the Laptev Sea. Even with small openings, currents from the north could clog openings again quickly, in the same fashion that has opened the sea ice lead in a matter of days. A sea ice lead is any fracture or passage-way through sea ice which is navigable by surface vessels. There are also substantial amounts of dangerous multi-year ice present in the area. Shallow or uncharted bathymetries may present additional hazards in those areas where ice concentration is reduced. Current charting of bathymetry from the International Bathymetric Chart of the Arctic Ocean (IBCAO) suggests depths between 10-20 meters along the Taymyr Peninsula and 20-30 meters through the lead in the Laptev. This is the first recorded occurrence of the Northwest Passage and Northern Sea Route both being open at the same time. The NIC will continue to monitor this area and will report on any changes in the status of polar navigation routes."

UPDATE: You may also be interested in the fate of some specific ice shelves: "Rapid Retreat: Ice Shelf Loss on Canada's Ellesmere Coast," a well-illustrated update from NASA's Earth Observatory.

Labels: alaska, canada, climate change, global warming, russia

A new study in Current Biology looks at mitochondrial DNA evidence from 160 woolly mammoth fossils on both sides of the Bering Land Bridge, and finds that the beasts trooped east from Asia into North America, and then marched back again 40,000 years ago, at which point the Asian mammoths slid into decline and extinction. The interpretation by the study's authors is that the North American prodigal mammoths returned to the mother country and possibly wiped out their Asian cousins.

The original article on the Current Biology* site. *Link wasn't working quite right this morning...
Scientific American's treatment of the story.
An article in the New York Times reviewing the study.

Labels: alaska, critters, fossils, mammals, pleistocene, russia

There's been some interesting articles in my media subscriptions lately. Thought I'd use today's post to share.

In the June National Geographic, a study of the geology of Stonehenge reveals the source of the monoliths ("polyliths?") there. They came from the Preseli Mountains of Wales. That's a long journey for such big rocks. Also in the same issue is an eye-popping pictorial piece on sea slugs. You must check it out, because it features dozens of David Doubilet images like this one:

WIRED's cover story this month is about environmental "heresies": ideas that supposedly environmentalists aren't supposed to like, but need to happen. The basic premise is that "only cutting carbon matters," and so they come up with some interesting recommendations like: (1) use A/C more, and heating less, (2) "screw the spotted owl" (don't worry about the loss of biodiversity), and (3) buy a used Geo Metro rather than a new Prius. I found this last of particular interest, as it recounts a web rumor that it took less carbon to make a Hummer than a Prius, and therefore Hummers were more environmentally friendly. (The Prius' battery has a lot of high-carbon-cost nickel in it.) WIRED breaks it all down into BTUs, and runs the numbers. According to their analysis, it takes the Prius 100,000 miles to catch up (i.e. be more carbon-efficient) than an old Toyota. Bummer... Big bummer. (At least the Hummer bit has been debunked.)

As usual, Smithsonian had a bunch of interesting pieces in it. Almost everything in there catches my imagination. It's a very well done magazine.

The New Yorker had a couple of articles, too: In their recent "innovators issue," Alex Ross profiled John Luther Adams, the man responsible for the mesmerizing "the place where you go to listen" in the Museum of the North at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks. If you haven't ever been there and find yourself in Fairbanks, I would recommend this museum highly, and this one room / art installation in particular: it plays certain notes and tones and changes the lighting depending on what the aurora, seismic activity, and other Earth processes are doing. And Margaret Talbot profiled Irene Pepperberg, who raised the parrot Alex and taught him to talk. This article explores the insights into intelligence gained from this serendipitous longterm experiment.

On the commodities front, the New York Times reports today that thieving biofuellers are stealing vegetable oil in Oregon, and that guano stocks are being closely guarded in Peru. Telling quote from the latter: "Before there was oil, there was guano, so of course we fought wars over it," (Pablo Arriola).

Labels: alaska, birdies, environmental, mollusks, news, prius, wales

Labels: alaska, travel