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Written by PEPPER TRAIL, Writers on the Range
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Wednesday, 23 July 2008 |
In the world to come, there will still be oak trees and pine trees and the
golden leaves of aspen in the fall. The sweet sounds of birdsong will still wake
us on spring mornings. In the world to come, the beauties of nature will still
be found.
But what will be lost?
That was the uncomfortable question that a group of ecologists was asked to
consider at a recent meeting of the University of Oregon’s Climate Leadership
Initiative. Our charge was to anticipate the alterations in southern Oregon’s
natural environments that could result from climate change. To guide our
deliberations, we examined the projections of three leading climate models for
such variables as monthly mean temperatures, total precipitation, snowpack and
the risk of wildfires.
All models agreed that our annual average
temperatures will increase, likely by at least 3 degrees F by 2040. For other
variables, the models differed, particularly for precipitation, with one model
forecasting much less, another slightly more, and the third about the same as
currently. Of course, this sort of uncertainty is seized upon by skeptics to
challenge the reality of climate change, and to question the need to prepare for
an altered world.
Clearly, there is much we don’t know about the world to
come. The dwindling band of climate change skeptics, however, seems to be
motivated by economic and political concerns, not by science. Today, there is a
near-universal scientific consensus that we are in a period of rapid climate
change that will dramatically alter not just weather patterns, but the
distributions of plants and animals around the world. Driven by sharply rising
concentrations of greenhouse gases, especially carbon dioxide, this warming has
achieved tremendous momentum. Despite uncertainties in the models, our group
found enough agreement to paint a bleak picture of the likely changes in store
for our region.
First, regardless of whether total precipitation
increases, decreases, or remains the same, all the models predict far less
snowpack in the future, with declines ranging from 25-75 percent by 2040. That
has profound implications, because the gradual melting of deep mountain snow
fills underground water supplies and keeps our rivers flowing through the long,
hot summers. Without significant snowpack, even some of our major rivers could
dwindle to intermittent flows in dry years, with catastrophic results for fish,
wildlife and human populations.
On the land, it is likely that oak
woodlands will spread up the slopes into the mountains, replacing mixed conifer
forests. At mid-elevations, more frequent fires and drier conditions will
probably break conifer forests into a mosaic of forest patches and brush fields.
With the loss of heavy snowpack, the wildflowers filling many of our high
mountain meadows will be replaced by drought-adapted species like
sagebrush.
All the models agreed that the risk and severity of wildfire
will increase in coming decades. Less snowmelt will lengthen the fire season by
reducing soil moisture, and hotter temperatures will produce dry, highly
flammable fuels. Some projections call for as much as a 100 percent increase in
acres burned annually in our region by the 2040s. The world to come will be
filled with smoke, and will be a much riskier place for those who choose to
build homes in the woods.
In our discussions, we kept returning to one
unanswerable question: Will nature be able to keep up with the changing climate?
Will plant distributions be able to move northward and up the mountainsides
fast enough to stay with their preferred zones of temperature and moisture? And
if not, will we be left with dying forests repopulated only by scrub and weeds?
That prospect is reason enough to try to at least slow down climate change, to
give nature – and ourselves -- a chance to adapt. The alternative would be
crippled ecosystems vulnerable to disease, insect outbreaks, invasion by alien
species, and hugely at risk of wildfire.
Our team of ecologists was not
asked to consider the impacts of climate change on the human world; other groups
of experts will do that. But I left the meeting wondering: What about our
economy and our food supply? What about politics, and energy, and peace and
war? For all that, the best I can find to say is this, offered as benediction
and apology to my children and the generations to follow:
The world to
come will not be blessed
Yet may you be
Blessed in strength for those hard
times
Blessed in love
For love is always blessed
Blessed in courage
to conquer the fear
That will seek an easy victory
Blessed in peace that
you create
For there will be no other
Blessed in hope
For a better
world to come
Pepper Trail is a contributor to Writers on the Range, a
service of High Country News (hcn.org). He is a biologist and writer who lives
in Ashland, Oregon.
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Last Updated ( Wednesday, 23 July 2008 )
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