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In Florida, the Miccosukee fight to protect the Everglades in the face of climate change

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Thursday, January 9, 2025

EVERGLADES, Fla. (AP) — As a boy, when the water was low Talbert Cypress from the Miccosukee Tribe of Indians of Florida rummaged through the Everglades' forests, swam in its swampy ponds and fished in its canals.But the vast wetlands near Miami have radically changed since Cypress was younger. Now 42 and tribal council chairman, Cypress said water levels are among the biggest changes. Droughts are drier and longer. Prolonged floods are drowning tree islands sacred to them. Native wildlife have dwindled.“It’s basically extremes now,” he said.Tribal elder Michael John Frank put it this way: “The Everglades is beautiful, but it’s just a skeleton of the way it used to be.”For centuries, the Everglades has been the tribe’s home. But decades of massive engineering projects for development and agriculture severed the wetlands to about half its original size, devastating an ecosystem that’s sustained them. Tribe members say water mismanagement has contributed to fires, floods and water pollution in their communities and cultural sites. Climate change, and the fossil fuel activities that caused it, are ongoing threats.The Miccosukee people have long fought to heal and protect what remains. They were historically reluctant to engage with the outside world due to America’s violent legacy against Indigenous people. But with a new tribal administration, the tribe has played an increasingly collaborative and leadership role in healing the Everglades.They’re working to stop oil exploration and successfully fought a wilderness designation that would have cut their access to ancestral lands. They’ve pushed for a project to reconnect the western Everglades with the larger ecosystem while helping to control invasive species and reintroducing racoons, hawks and other native animals. In August they signed a co-stewardship agreement for some of South Florida’s natural landscapes. They’ve held prayer walks, launched campaigns to raise awareness of important issues and used airboat tours as public classrooms.Even so, a new report on the progress of Everglades work acknowledges a lack of meaningful and consistent engagement with the Miccosukee and Seminole tribes. It calls for applying Indigenous knowledge to restoration efforts and a steady partnership with tribes, whose longstanding, intimate and reciprocal relationship with the environment can help with understanding historical and present ecological conditions.The Miccosukee’s past fuels their activism todayFor generations, the Miccosukee people would make pilgrimages from northern Florida to the Everglades to fish, hunt and hold religious ceremonies. When the Seminole Wars broke out in 1817, the tribe navigated the vast terrain better than the U.S. Army. By the late 1850s, Col. Gustavus Loomis had seared every tribal village and field in a region known as the Big Cypress, forcing the Miccosukee and Seminole people to seek refuge on tree islands deep in the Everglades.“That’s the reason we’re here today. We often look at the Everglades as our protector during that time. And so now, it’s our turn to protect the Everglades,” said Cypress.Many of the Everglades' modern problems began in the 1940s when the region was drained to build cities and plant crops. Over time, the ecosystems where the Miccosukee people hunted, fished and gathered plants, held sacred rituals and put their deceased to rest, have been destroyed.A state-federal project to clean the water and rehydrate the landscape aims to undo much of the damage. But water management decisions and restoration efforts have flooded or parched lands where tribe members live and hold ceremonies.That’s a reason the tribe has pushed for decades for a comprehensive response with the Western Everglades Restoration Project. Members have spoken at public meetings, written letters to federal agencies, lobbied with state and federal leaders while gathering with stakeholders to hear their concerns. If all goes right, the project will clean polluted water, improve hydrology, provide flood protection and reduce the likelihood and severity of wildfires. Groundbreaking for the project began in July there .Still, there are concerns about community flood risks and whether the project will do enough to improve water quality and quantity after a part of the plan was removed.A second engineered wetland that would have cleaned water was removed from the project proposal after landowners wouldn’t give up their lands. The area’s geology was also deemed too porous to sustain it. In the absence of an alternative, some people worry water will not meet standards.Even so, Curtis Osceola, chief of staff for the Miccosukee Tribe, said of the project: “If we get this done, we will have forever changed the future for the Miccosukee and Seminole.”Victory in fight over wilderness designationIn a region of the Everglades now known as the Big Cypress National Preserve, environmental activist and Miccosukee tribe member Betty Osceola learned as a child to spear hunt and subsist off the land like her ancestors did. It’s where she still lives, in one of 15 traditional villages that a few hundred Miccosukee and Seminole people also call home.In its cypress swamps and sawgrass prairies, they hunt, gather medicinal plants and hold important events. It’s home to ceremonial and burial grounds, and to the endangered Florida panther.The National Park Service wanted to designate the preserve as wilderness to protect it from human impacts. The tribe pushed back, saying it would have significantly affected their traditional ways of life, limited access to their homelands and ignored the critical stewardship they’ve provided for centuries. Allowing Indigenous people to remain caretakers of their lands and waters, numerous studies have shown, are critical to protecting biodiversity, forests and fighting climate change.After a stern fight involving campaigns, a petition, testimonials and support from numerous government officials, the tribe succeeded.The National Park Service listened to the tribe’s concerns about the legal conflicts the designation would have on their tribal rights, said Osceola, the Miccosukee’s chief of staff. Although they continue objecting to the agency’s advancing proposal to expand trail systems in the preserve, which the tribe said are near or past culturally significant sites, “they did listen to us on the wilderness designation and at least they’re not, at this time, proceeding with any such designation,” he added.The Miccosukee continue pushing to phase out oil drilling in Big Cypress, writing op-eds and working with local, state and federal governments to stop more oil exploration by acquiring mineral rights in the preserve.Elders look to the next generation to protect the EvergladesOn a windy afternoon, Frank, the tribal elder, and Hector Tigertail, 18, sat under a chickee, or stilt house, on the tribe’s reservation. A wooden swing swayed near garden beds where flowers, chilies and other plants sprung from the soil. A plastic deer with antlers lay on the grass nearby, used to teach Indigenous youth how to hunt.Frank, 67, shared stories of growing up on tree islands. He remembered when the water was so clean he could drink it, and the deer that emerged to play when a softball game was underway.He spoke of the tribe’s history and a time when wildlife in the Everglades was abundant. Of his distrust of government agencies and the tribe’s connection to the land. And he spoke often of his grandfather’s words, uttered to him decades ago that still resound.“We were told to never, ever leave the Everglades,” said Frank. “The only way to prolong your life, your culture, your identity is to stay here in the Everglades... as long as you’re here, your maker’s hand is upon you.”Tigertail heard similar stories from his uncles and grandfather growing up. They helped him feel connected to the Everglades and to his culture. Their stories remind him of the importance of being stewards of the lands that have cared for him and his ancestors.Tribal elders are teaching youth what Cypress called “the modern” way to protect the Everglades – with policy, understanding government practices and integrating traditional and Western science.As a tribal youth member, Tigertail is doing what he can to preserve the Everglades for his generation and ones to come. He works with the Miccosukee Tribe’s Fish and Wildlife Department to remove invasive species like pythons and fish like peacock bass. And he tries to be a voice for his people.“To hear that we’re losing it slowly and slowly saddens me,” said Tigertail. “But also gives me hope that maybe there is a chance to save it.”— By DORANY PINEDA and REBECCA BLACKWELL Associated Press

Decades of engineering projects have devastated ancestral lands and the ecosystem that’s sustained them.

EVERGLADES, Fla. (AP) — As a boy, when the water was low Talbert Cypress from the Miccosukee Tribe of Indians of Florida rummaged through the Everglades' forests, swam in its swampy ponds and fished in its canals.

But the vast wetlands near Miami have radically changed since Cypress was younger. Now 42 and tribal council chairman, Cypress said water levels are among the biggest changes. Droughts are drier and longer. Prolonged floods are drowning tree islands sacred to them. Native wildlife have dwindled.

“It’s basically extremes now,” he said.

Tribal elder Michael John Frank put it this way: “The Everglades is beautiful, but it’s just a skeleton of the way it used to be.”

For centuries, the Everglades has been the tribe’s home. But decades of massive engineering projects for development and agriculture severed the wetlands to about half its original size, devastating an ecosystem that’s sustained them. Tribe members say water mismanagement has contributed to fires, floods and water pollution in their communities and cultural sites. Climate change, and the fossil fuel activities that caused it, are ongoing threats.

The Miccosukee people have long fought to heal and protect what remains. They were historically reluctant to engage with the outside world due to America’s violent legacy against Indigenous people. But with a new tribal administration, the tribe has played an increasingly collaborative and leadership role in healing the Everglades.

They’re working to stop oil exploration and successfully fought a wilderness designation that would have cut their access to ancestral lands. They’ve pushed for a project to reconnect the western Everglades with the larger ecosystem while helping to control invasive species and reintroducing racoons, hawks and other native animals. In August they signed a co-stewardship agreement for some of South Florida’s natural landscapes. They’ve held prayer walks, launched campaigns to raise awareness of important issues and used airboat tours as public classrooms.

Even so, a new report on the progress of Everglades work acknowledges a lack of meaningful and consistent engagement with the Miccosukee and Seminole tribes. It calls for applying Indigenous knowledge to restoration efforts and a steady partnership with tribes, whose longstanding, intimate and reciprocal relationship with the environment can help with understanding historical and present ecological conditions.

The Miccosukee’s past fuels their activism today

For generations, the Miccosukee people would make pilgrimages from northern Florida to the Everglades to fish, hunt and hold religious ceremonies. When the Seminole Wars broke out in 1817, the tribe navigated the vast terrain better than the U.S. Army. By the late 1850s, Col. Gustavus Loomis had seared every tribal village and field in a region known as the Big Cypress, forcing the Miccosukee and Seminole people to seek refuge on tree islands deep in the Everglades.

“That’s the reason we’re here today. We often look at the Everglades as our protector during that time. And so now, it’s our turn to protect the Everglades,” said Cypress.

Many of the Everglades' modern problems began in the 1940s when the region was drained to build cities and plant crops. Over time, the ecosystems where the Miccosukee people hunted, fished and gathered plants, held sacred rituals and put their deceased to rest, have been destroyed.

A state-federal project to clean the water and rehydrate the landscape aims to undo much of the damage. But water management decisions and restoration efforts have flooded or parched lands where tribe members live and hold ceremonies.

That’s a reason the tribe has pushed for decades for a comprehensive response with the Western Everglades Restoration Project. Members have spoken at public meetings, written letters to federal agencies, lobbied with state and federal leaders while gathering with stakeholders to hear their concerns. If all goes right, the project will clean polluted water, improve hydrology, provide flood protection and reduce the likelihood and severity of wildfires. Groundbreaking for the project began in July there .

Still, there are concerns about community flood risks and whether the project will do enough to improve water quality and quantity after a part of the plan was removed.

A second engineered wetland that would have cleaned water was removed from the project proposal after landowners wouldn’t give up their lands. The area’s geology was also deemed too porous to sustain it. In the absence of an alternative, some people worry water will not meet standards.

Even so, Curtis Osceola, chief of staff for the Miccosukee Tribe, said of the project: “If we get this done, we will have forever changed the future for the Miccosukee and Seminole.”

Victory in fight over wilderness designation

In a region of the Everglades now known as the Big Cypress National Preserve, environmental activist and Miccosukee tribe member Betty Osceola learned as a child to spear hunt and subsist off the land like her ancestors did. It’s where she still lives, in one of 15 traditional villages that a few hundred Miccosukee and Seminole people also call home.

In its cypress swamps and sawgrass prairies, they hunt, gather medicinal plants and hold important events. It’s home to ceremonial and burial grounds, and to the endangered Florida panther.

The National Park Service wanted to designate the preserve as wilderness to protect it from human impacts. The tribe pushed back, saying it would have significantly affected their traditional ways of life, limited access to their homelands and ignored the critical stewardship they’ve provided for centuries. Allowing Indigenous people to remain caretakers of their lands and waters, numerous studies have shown, are critical to protecting biodiversity, forests and fighting climate change.

After a stern fight involving campaigns, a petition, testimonials and support from numerous government officials, the tribe succeeded.

The National Park Service listened to the tribe’s concerns about the legal conflicts the designation would have on their tribal rights, said Osceola, the Miccosukee’s chief of staff. Although they continue objecting to the agency’s advancing proposal to expand trail systems in the preserve, which the tribe said are near or past culturally significant sites, “they did listen to us on the wilderness designation and at least they’re not, at this time, proceeding with any such designation,” he added.

The Miccosukee continue pushing to phase out oil drilling in Big Cypress, writing op-eds and working with local, state and federal governments to stop more oil exploration by acquiring mineral rights in the preserve.

Elders look to the next generation to protect the Everglades

On a windy afternoon, Frank, the tribal elder, and Hector Tigertail, 18, sat under a chickee, or stilt house, on the tribe’s reservation. A wooden swing swayed near garden beds where flowers, chilies and other plants sprung from the soil. A plastic deer with antlers lay on the grass nearby, used to teach Indigenous youth how to hunt.

Frank, 67, shared stories of growing up on tree islands. He remembered when the water was so clean he could drink it, and the deer that emerged to play when a softball game was underway.

He spoke of the tribe’s history and a time when wildlife in the Everglades was abundant. Of his distrust of government agencies and the tribe’s connection to the land. And he spoke often of his grandfather’s words, uttered to him decades ago that still resound.

“We were told to never, ever leave the Everglades,” said Frank. “The only way to prolong your life, your culture, your identity is to stay here in the Everglades... as long as you’re here, your maker’s hand is upon you.”

Tigertail heard similar stories from his uncles and grandfather growing up. They helped him feel connected to the Everglades and to his culture. Their stories remind him of the importance of being stewards of the lands that have cared for him and his ancestors.

Tribal elders are teaching youth what Cypress called “the modern” way to protect the Everglades – with policy, understanding government practices and integrating traditional and Western science.

As a tribal youth member, Tigertail is doing what he can to preserve the Everglades for his generation and ones to come. He works with the Miccosukee Tribe’s Fish and Wildlife Department to remove invasive species like pythons and fish like peacock bass. And he tries to be a voice for his people.

“To hear that we’re losing it slowly and slowly saddens me,” said Tigertail. “But also gives me hope that maybe there is a chance to save it.”

— By DORANY PINEDA and REBECCA BLACKWELL Associated Press

Read the full story here.
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Earth Records Hottest Year Ever In 2024 And The Jump Was So Big It Breached A Key Threshold

Global temperatures in 2024 soared to yet another record level, but this time it was such a big jump that Earth temporarily passed a major symbolic climate threshold.

FILE - A woman tries to cool herself while waiting for a bus on a hot day in Skopje, North Macedonia, June 20, 2024. (AP Photo/Boris Grdanoski, File)Earth recorded its hottest year ever in 2024, with such a big jump that the planet temporarily passed a major climate threshold, several weather monitoring agencies announced Friday.Last year’s global average temperature easily passed 2023′s record heat and kept pushing even higher. It surpassed the long-term warming limit of 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit ) since the late 1800s that was called for by the 2015 Paris climate pact, according to the European Commission’s Copernicus Climate Service, the United Kingdom’s Meteorology Office and Japan’s weather agency.The European team calculated 1.6 degrees Celsius (2.89 degrees Fahrenheit) of warming. Japan found 1.57 degrees Celsius (2.83 degrees Fahrenheit) and the British 1.53 degrees Celsius (2.75 degrees Fahrenheit) in releases of data coordinated to early Friday morning European time.American monitoring teams — NASA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and the private Berkeley Earth — were to release their figures later Friday but all will likely show record heat for 2024, European scientists said. The six groups compensate for data gaps in observations that go back to 1850 — in different ways, which is why numbers vary slightly.“The primary reason for these record temperatures is the accumulation of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere” from the burning of coal, oil and gas, said Samantha Burgess, strategic climate lead at Copernicus. “As greenhouse gases continue to accumulate in the atmosphere, temperatures continue to increase, including in the ocean, sea levels continue to rise, and glaciers and ice sheets continue to melt.”Last year eclipsed 2023′s temperature in the European database by an eighth of a degree Celsius (more than a fifth of a degree Fahrenheit). That’s an unusually large jump; until the last couple of super-hot years, global temperature records were exceeded only by hundredths of a degree, scientists said.The last 10 years are the 10 hottest on record and are likely the hottest in 125,000 years, Burgess said.July 10 was the hottest day recorded by humans, with the globe averaging 17.16 degrees Celsius (62.89 degrees Fahrenheit), Copernicus found.By far the biggest contributor to record warming is the burning of fossil fuels, several scientists said. A temporary natural El Nino warming of the central Pacific added a small amount and an undersea volcanic eruption in 2022 ended up cooling the atmosphere because it put more reflecting particles in the atmosphere as well as water vapor, Burgess said.“This is a warning light going off on the Earth’s dashboard that immediate attention is needed,″ said University of Georgia meteorology professor Marshall Shepherd. ”Hurricane Helene, floods in Spain and the weather whiplash fueling wildfires in California are symptoms of this unfortunate climate gear shift. We still have a few gears to go.”“Climate-change-related alarm bells have been ringing almost constantly, which may be causing the public to become numb to the urgency, like police sirens in New York City,” Woodwell Climate Research Center scientist Jennifer Francis said. “In the case of the climate, though, the alarms are getting louder, and the emergencies are now way beyond just temperature.”The world incurred $140 billion in climate-related disaster losses last year — third highest on record — with North America especially hard hit, according to a report by the insurance firm Munich Re.“The acceleration of global temperature increases means more damage to property and impacts on human health and the ecosystems we depend on,” said University of Arizona water scientist Kathy Jacobs.World breaches major thresholdThis is the first time any year passed the 1.5-degree threshold, except for a 2023 measurement by Berkeley Earth, which was originally funded by philanthropists who were skeptical of global warming.Scientists were quick to point out that the 1.5 goal is for long-term warming, now defined as a 20-year average. Warming since pre-industrial times over the long term is now at 1.3 degrees Celsius (2.3 degrees Celsius).“The 1.5 degree C threshold isn’t just a number — it’s a red flag. Surpassing it even for a single year shows how perilously close we are to breaching the limits set by the Paris Agreement,” Northern Illinois University climate scientist Victor Gensini said in an email. A 2018 massive United Nations study found that keeping Earth’s temperature rise below 1.5 degrees Celsius could save coral reefs from going extinct, keep massive ice sheet loss in Antarctica at bay and prevent many people’s death and suffering.Francis called the threshold “dead in the water.”Burgess called it extremely likely that Earth will overshoot the 1.5-degree threshold, but called the Paris Agreement “extraordinarily important international policy” that nations around the world should remain committed to.European and British calculations figure with a cooling La Nina instead of last year’s warming El Nino, 2025 is likely to be not quite as hot as 2024. They predict it will turn out to be the third-warmest. However, the first six days of January — despite frigid temperatures in the U.S. East — averaged slightly warmer and are the hottest start to a year yet, according to Copernicus data.Scientists remain split on whether global warming is accelerating.There’s not enough data to see an acceleration in atmospheric warming, but the heat content of the oceans seem to be not just rising but going up at a faster rate, said Carlo Buontempo, Copernicus’ director.“We are facing a very new climate and new challenges — climate challenges that our society is not prepared for,” Buontempo said.This is all like watching the end of “a dystopian sci-fi film,” said University of Pennsylvania climate scientist Michael Mann. “We are now reaping what we’ve sown.”Follow Seth Borenstein on X at @borenbearsThe Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org

We tracked the Tasmanian boobook as it flew a remarkable 250 kilometres non-stop across Bass Strait

Understanding this migration is crucial. New developments proposed in Bass Strait, particularly offshore wind farms, may introduce challenges for migrating birds.

By JJ Harrison - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0., CC BYEvery year, tens of thousands of land birds make a long flight across Bass Strait – the stretch of water separating Tasmania from continental Australia. Well known for its high winds and rough seas, crossing Bass Strait is no small feat for these migrant land birds. Migration is stressful for birds, as they encounter inhospitable environments, predators, and weather changes while expending peak energy. But how exactly do these birds traverse this daunting stretch of ocean? Understanding this is more crucial than ever. New developments proposed in Bass Strait, particularly offshore wind farms, may introduce challenges for migrating birds. And until now, no one has looked closely at the movement pathways of these little migrants. Our new research tracked the migration paths of Tasmanian boobooks, Ninox leucopsis, as they crossed from Victoria to Tasmania. We found the Tasmanian boobook was indeed a regular migrant across Bass Strait – making it Australia’s only migratory owl. Rather than island-hopping, these small owls completed the roughly 250 kilometre flight across the strait in a single night, in one continuous flight. These insights may help us protect birds in a rapidly changing world. Well known for its high winds and rough seas, crossing Bass Strait is no small feat for these migrant land birds. Shutterstock/nektofadeev Tagging and tracking the Tasmanian boobook As their name suggests, Tasmanian boobooks are common across Tasmania and were once considered endemic to the island. Over time, they were occasionally spotted in mainland Australia, with scattered records in Victoria and elsewhere. In recent years, a more consistent pattern was revealed when keen birdwatchers discovered small numbers of these owls perched on Cape Liptrap, southeast of Melbourne, in spring. Could these birds actually be migrants about to make the Bass Strait crossing after winter on the mainland? With thermal cameras, special nets, and lightweight miniature GPS-tracking devices in hand, we travelled to the southeast Victorian coast to catch five Tasmanian boobooks at these headlands. Once we attached the tracking devices, we could follow their movements for up to three weeks before the tags failed and were dislodged. Researchers attached tracking devices to the owls. Jessica Zhou Facinating findings We found the Tasmanian boobook is Australia’s only migratory owl. In fact, it is what’s known as a “partial migrant”. This means while some birds of the species migrate, many other individuals remain in Tasmania year-round. Three of our tagged birds departed southeast Victoria in October and November. They began their nonstop journeys at dusk and arrived in northern Tasmania early the following morning. Two continued moving further inland to central Tasmania over subsequent nights and eventually settled at elevations of around 750 metres. These observations suggest the migrating Tasmanian boobooks may be fleeing harsh winter conditions at high elevation areas. This phenomenon, known as altitudinal migration, has been observed in other Tasmanian birds such as the flame robin and crescent honeyeater. We also discovered unexpected variety in the Tasmanian boobook migration patterns. Some birds left from Cape Liptrap and others from Wilsons Promontory, at the southern tip of Victoria. They also flew at varying speeds under a surprising range of weather conditions, including headwinds upon departure. This is in an impressive feat for an owl, which weighs just 210–240 grams and probably undertakes the crossing by continuously flapping its wings. New clues and questions about other Bass Strait migrants Bird migration in the southern hemisphere is little-studied compared with northern hemisphere migration. In Australia, movement patterns are particularly complex and variable due to the vast scale of the continental landmass, the variable geography such as mountains, deserts, and islands, and unpredictable climate. At least 24 species migrate across Bass Strait. They range from songbirds and raptors to the critically endangered orange-bellied parrot and swift parrot. Much of what we know comes from limited land-based observations. The Tasmanian boobooks we tracked give us just a small insight into the many migratory journeys across Bass Strait. However, the variation we observed in just three migratory tracks for a single species raises questions about other Bass Strait migrants. Are islands less crucial as stopover points than previously thought? Even for species like the orange-bellied parrot, which does use islands, it remains plausible many individuals might cross Bass Strait in a single non-stop flight. These unanswered questions about bird movement across Bass Strait is not just a matter of curiosity. Hazards old and new Migratory birds are exposed to a greater range of threats than non-migratory birds. Crossing Bass Strait means risking inclement weather, artificial lighting, and collision with boats or oil rigs. Now, new developments may also present novel challenges. Australia is rapidly expanding its renewable energy sector, including offshore wind. Several areas in Bass Strait have been declared by the federal government as priority areas for wind farm development and many projects are already being planned. These developments are essential for reducing emissions and combating climate change. But how do we balance the necessary transition to clean energy, while minimising direct harm to biodiversity? Offshore wind farms can displace birds from their routes, or worse, introduce collision risks. Environmental assessments are a mandatory part of wind farm development in Australia, but they need to be informed by robust ecological data. Understanding the basic ecology of land-bird migration is crucial. We need to know where the threats to migratory birds are highest, which species are at risk of collisions, and how to mitigate these threats as the transition to renewable energy continues. Jessica W. Zhou's research group works with various stakeholders to address the threat posed by wildlife collisions with wind energy infrastructure. This includes contracts with wind farm developers, environmental consultancies, and DCCEEW and NOPSEMA, as the federal regulators of offshore wind. The research group has also received funding from environmental consulting firm Biosis.Rohan Clarke's research group works with various stakeholders to address the threat posed by wildlife collisions with wind energy infrastructure. This includes contracts with wind farm developers, environmental consultancies, and DCCEEW and NOPSEMA, as the federal regulators of offshore wind. The research group has also received funding from environmental consulting firm Biosis.

Flooding’s Hidden Killers Include Heart Attacks and Infections

A new study found that flood deaths can rise by 25 percent three months after a disaster

January 8, 20252 min readFlooding’s Hidden Killers Include Heart Attacks and InfectionsA new study found that flood deaths can rise by 25 percent three months after a disasterBy Ariel Wittenberg & E&E News People inspect the flood damage in the Biltmore Village in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene on September 28, 2024 in Asheville, North Carolina. Hurricane Helene made landfall Thursday night in Florida's Big Bend with winds up to 140 mph. Sean Rayford/Getty ImagesCLIMATEWIRE | Floods could be deadlier than previously thought — and from more than just drowning.A study published Tuesday in Nature found that the number of U.S. deaths in flooded areas continued to rise for up to three months after the disaster, resulting in a 25 percent higher death rate from things like infections, injuries and heart disease, compared with periods of no flooding.The researchers from Columbia University used a statistical model to analyze national death data from 2001 to 2018 and calculate how death rates changed in the three months following floods versus normal conditions.On supporting science journalismIf you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.They found that the residents of 2,711 counties experienced floods during that time frame, with heavy rain and snowmelt being the top causes of flooding.“Our results show that floods were associated with higher death rates for most major causes of death, even for rain- and snow-related floods that are less likely to generate rapid emergency responses” than hurricanes, said author Victoria Lynch, a postdoctoral research fellow at the Columbia Mailman School of Public Health.In particular, the researchers found that rain-related flooding was associated with increased deaths from infectious diseases, while flooding from melting snow was associated with higher death rates from respiratory and cardiovascular diseases.“There is a hidden burden of exposure to floods that people may not be thinking about having an effect over time,” said author Robbie Parks, assistant professor of environmental health sciences at Columbia. “There is a big infection issue, but even the indirect effects of flooding adding stress can have an impact on cardiovascular health.”Reprinted from E&E News with permission from POLITICO, LLC. Copyright 2025. E&E News provides essential news for energy and environment professionals.

Scarves Over Headscarves, Muslim Women’s Outdoors Group Tackles Snow Tubing in Minnesota

Three years ago, a Somali-American mom in Minneapolis founded a group for Muslim women who want to enjoy the great outdoors

MAPLE GROVE, Minn. (AP) — Ice crystals clung to the eyelashes, parka hood, beanie hat and headscarf of Ruqayah Nasser as she took a break after her first-ever snow tubing runs in a Minnesota park on a subzero (-18 Celsius) January morning.She had joined two dozen other members of a group founded by a Somali-American mother in Minneapolis to promote all-seasons activities among Muslim women, who might otherwise feel singled out in the great outdoors, especially when wearing hijabs.“They understand my lifestyle. I don’t have to explain myself,” said Nasser, who recently moved to the Twin Cities from Chicago and whose family hails from Yemen. “My religion is everything. It’s my survival kit.”As one of the most visible signs of the Muslim faith, hijabs often attract controversy. Within Islam, some women want to wear the headscarves for piety and modesty, while others oppose them as a symbol of oppression. In the sports world, including in the last Olympics, devout athletes have often faced extra hurdles on and off the field in finding accommodations for religious practices.Concerned about safety as a woman — particularly one wearing a head covering — but determined to get outdoors to beat seasonal depression, Nasrieen Habib put out a social media post about creating a hiking group three years ago.From the nine women who responded, her Amanah Rec Project has grown to more than 700 members. There’s a core group for Muslim women only — for “more sisterhood and modesty,” Habib says — as well as a group for families. In addition to weekly outings, they organize longer trips and education on everything from appropriate winter clothing — a challenge for many migrant communities — to health and environmental sustainability from the perspective of Islam.“It’s a way to live your whole life according to a set of beliefs and rules. And part of those beliefs and rules is taking care of creation,” Habib said as her 4-year-old son took a break from tubing in a toasty chalet at Elm Creek Park Reserve near Minneapolis. “How can we be more sustainable in a time where we see the impact of climate change, especially impacting people who look like us in the Global South?”Two sisters, Ruun Mahamud and Nawal Hirsi, moved to the United States from Somalia as children about two decades ago.Even though she feels “safe and accepted” in her hijab, Hirsi joined the group for extra support.“I love being outdoors and joining this group has made me more comfortable to participate,” she said on the tubing hill, where she had convinced Mahamud to come along for the first time.“Oh my gosh, it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever done,” Mahamud gushed after speeding downhill on a tube attached to her sister’s as their daughters recorded the adventure on their phones.The sisters said it’s important to include love for the outdoors and physical activity in their children’s religious upbringing.“Taking care of one’s health is part of our faith,” Hirsi said.Muslim women who wear hijabs can face multiple barriers to sports participation, said Umer Hussain, a Wilkes University professor who studies religion and sports. They range from activities where genders mix or head coverings pose logistical hurdles to conservative families who might frown on it.Groups like Habib’s tackle empowering women in their communities as well as raising awareness about religious accommodations like single-sex spaces or locations for prayer.“The biggest barrier, for women specifically, is having access to spaces that allow us to practice our religion while keeping our modesty and abiding by the Islamic laws that tell us we are not supposed to be in mixed spaces without covering up,” Habib said.She appears to have tapped into a great demand.“When she told me she was going to start a hiking group to get sisters out in nature … it was like actually something I’ve been looking for for a very long time,” Makiya Amin said as she climbed up the tubing hill in a long white skirt, bright-red headscarf, and heavy winter coat. “I didn’t really have those type of people who were outdoorsy already around me.”Isho Mohamed joined the group for the wide-ranging conversations as much as for the outdoors, which as a self-described “homebody” she had largely avoided since college days.“It’s a safe space that takes me out of my comfort zone,” she said of the group outings. During them, the women share about work experiences but also life as immigrants and, most importantly, their faith.“We also talk about spiritual connection and connecting with God as well, and just say a little prayer here and there when we’re walking,” Mohamed added.Her cheeks glowing above her ski mask after two hours on the hill, Jorida Latifi was with her 7-year-old son among the last to hang up their snow tubes. Originally from Albania, Latifi has gone out with the group almost weekly since joining more than a year ago.“With Muslim sisters … they do understand you, what you go through, even with the clothing and hijabs,” Latifi said. “It feels way, way more like, you know, where you are with family.”Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See - Sept. 2024

A Texas teenager helped his border community win a $13 million grant to improve the environment

Presidio, northwest of Big Bend National Park, will get dedicated green spaces along bike lanes and pedestrian streets, plant thousands of native trees and establish a high-school run air quality monitoring program.

Subscribe to The Y’all — a weekly dispatch about the people, places and policies defining Texas, produced by Texas Tribune journalists living in communities across the state. ODESSA — When he was 13, Ramon Rodriguez stood before the Presidio City Council. He had a vision for his hometown, a hot, arid border community. He wanted the council to create a department dedicated to preserving the environment. The department would install composting bins around town, and build greenhouses and tree nurseries that collect water. Part of the town would be dedicated green spaces where building would be prohibited. The council, with its shoestring budget, did not adopt his suggestions. That decision in 2018 did not deter Rodriguez, who has looked for ways to put his plan in place piecemeal. Then, late last year, Rodriguez learned the region won a $13 million federal grant he helped write. “We need this, we should have this,” he said. “And now it's becoming a reality. It's such a beautiful moment.” The grant is part of the Infrastructure Reduction Act that President Joe Biden signed in 2022. The law included $2 billion for nationwide environmental and climate justice projects. Texas received about $53 million from the program, according to the Environmental Protection Agency. Houston’s Health department received $20 million, in part to reduce pollution. Air Alliance Houston, an environmental advocacy group, won $2.9 million to bolster a program that tracks industrial permits submitted to the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality. Meanwhile, Waco and other nonprofits got $17.9 million to address pollution and climate change, install charging stations for electric vehicles and establish university programs. The Big Bend Conservation Alliance, a regional group overseeing projects across three counties, will administer the money and spend it on infrastructure to help with heat waves and create green areas. The most important Texas news,sent weekday mornings. They will build dedicated green spaces along bike lanes and pedestrian streets, thousands of native trees for residents, a community garden, solar and battery power to bolster a community center with cooling, an emergency cooling plan during power outages, a high-school run air quality monitoring program and a tool that warns drivers about traffic at a local bridge to reduce congestion and avoid idling cars. The conservation alliance will also help the city build three detention ponds to mitigate flooding, a project the city has in its plans but has not been able to afford. Christina Hernandez, co-director of the conservation alliance, said it worked with Rodriguez, the 19-year-old environmentalist, to choose the programs they wanted to include in the proposal. For the most part, the projects will support already existing infrastructure. Native flora lines the edge of a sidewalk along downtown Presidio. The Big Bend Conservation Alliance plans to build greenbelts along sidewalks and bike paths, establish a high school-run air quality and provide a tool that warns drivers about traffic at Presidio’s international bridge to reduce congestion and avoid idling cars. Credit: Sarah M. Vasquez for The Texas Tribune First: The gym inside the Presidio Activity Center doubles as a community cooling center during power outages in extreme heat. As part of the federal grant, the Big Bend Conservation Alliance plans to install solar panels and a battery backup at the center. Last: Project Homeleaf, in collaboration with the city, revitalized the Presidio Recycling Center by maintaining the space, placing outdoor bins for better material control and spreading awareness with instructional signs. Credit: Sarah M. Vasquez for The Texas Tribune Hernandez said the organization plans to start building by the end of January. They expect the full scale of the proposal to be completed in about three years. “We know that the city is already stretched really thin,” Hernandez said. “But this is work that's really important and needs to be done.” A town of roughly 3,000, Presidio is a border community just steps from Ojinaga, Mexico. It’s also northwest of Big Bend National Park. People have lived there for hundreds of years, according to the Texas State Historical Association. Some records trace its origins to the 15th century. It formally became a city in the 1980s. Presidio relies on property taxes and a landfill it allows other cities to use for its revenue, which amounts to about $4 million. The city stretches that budget to fund its emergency services and police department, said Presidio Mayor John Ferguson. Many of the trails that pass for roads need to be paved. Portions of the city do not have a sewage system. Ferguson said the city functions much like a colonia, impoverished border communities with little to no municipal infrastructure that are predominantly Hispanic. “We’re doing the best we can. It’s frustrating to not be able to do more,” Ferguson said, adding the city will lend a hand to the conservation alliance. Joni Carswell, president and CEO of Texan by Nature, a conservation nonprofit supporting such projects statewide, said cities need to strengthen their infrastructure to withstand hotter temperatures and preserve water sources. Conservation projects across the state have restored ecosystems, including longleaf pines in East Texas and redfish nurseries on the coast, and a watershed on Baffin Bay 50 miles south of Corpus Christi. In a report published last year, the group found that nearly 200 nonprofit organizations in Texas spent $639 million on restoration, education, policy and programs related to environmental conservation. “Presidio has an opportunity to show how beneficial a federal grant at this size can be because we have small rural communities all over the state that are in need of this type of funding,” Caldwell said. Rodriguez first became passionate about the environment in elementary school, after he learned about the town’s first recycling center. He created Project Homeleaf in his school’s cafeteria, named after the place he wanted to improve and the kind of change he wanted to see. Mostly made up of teenage volunteers, the group found neighborhoods with the least shade and helped residents plant trees. They fundraised by selling baked goods. They recruited people to volunteer at the town’s recycling center. It taught elementary school students about conserving the environment with a group of students who called themselves the Climate Crew. A walk and bike path leads through a neighborhood in Presidio. The federal grant will help fund the planting of thousands of native trees that will provide shade along the paths throughout town. Credit: Sarah M. Vasquez for The Texas Tribune Rodriguez began working with the Big Bend Conservation Alliance in high school. One of his first projects with the group was planting more trees. The group has also worked to end light pollution, expand community gardens and preserve tribal land. As of December, he is the conservation alliance’s program manager, overseeing many of the projects funded by the grant. The money the conservation alliance won funds this position. Rodriguez wants his hometown to be lush with green roadways, which he said will bond neighborhoods. “Presidio won't look the same in three years,” he said. “And in a very good way.” Disclosure: Air Alliance Houston and Texas State Historical Association have been financial supporters of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune's journalism. Find a complete list of them here.

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