Hey, Florida, you still there?

Don’t bother to answer, just get out while you can, if you haven’t already. Milton is supposed to make landfall soon.

As someone in Minnesota, I don’t understand why anyone lives in that morass of swampland. Sure, we get occasional tornadoes, but they’re pitiful compared to hurricanes; yeah, it gets a bit cold in the winter, but we just hunker down in a cozy warm house until the blizzard blows over, and we’re not sitting in a puddle of sweat all the time. There’s also the difference between a governor Walz vs DeSantis.

Follow the Mississippi north. We’ll welcome you with some hotdish and a pair of mittens.

I have a computer, I don’t need to look up

In the olden times, before technology, at this time of year I’d normally be hearing the geese honking and I’d have to look up to see the birds flying overhead. No more! I can just check Birdcast and see how the annual migration is going. Much more data than I can gather with just my eyes.

Check out your county! It’s the only way to know what the birds are up to!

One day you wake up and find yourself in a dystopian eco-disaster novel

The other day, when I was taking a tour of the UMM EcoStation, I learned that they are currently leasing a few acres to a local farmer, but that there were restrictions on what he could plant. No corn! No planting corn in our ecologically conscious field station, because corn fields get soaked in neonicotinoids, a potent pesticide.

Of course, as we returned home, we drove past immense fields of corn everywhere.

Neonicotinoids are great for killing insects — they’re a nerve poison that binds to acetylcholine receptors, found in the central nervous system of insects, triggering excessive activity and killing them with overstimulation. It kills bees and butterflies and fireflies, those charming and charismatic creatures everyone loves, but also flies and spiders, which no one seems to care much about. Well, except maybe me and weirdo entomologists.

It’s been a poor summer for spiders, but then, I’ve noticed them declining in numbers for years. This summer, though, it was particularly obvious — in previous years, my lawn has been dotted with little tents, the webs of grass spiders, that are vividly obvious in the morning dew. This year…I’ve seen a handful, and some mornings, there are none at all.

Orb weavers haven’t been common around here. We’ve looked at the local horticulture garden, and aside from the rare tetragnathid, they’ve been mostly absent. It’s getting a bit creepy. Maybe you’re not as fond of spiders as I am, but you know you’re in trouble when levels of the food chain start dropping out.

It’s not just me. When we spot one or two monarch butterflies now, it’s noteworthy, and my wife will drag me out to the garden to see. Years ago we’d see huge flocks of them coating trees. It’s worldwide; butterfly populations in the UK are down.

Richard Fox, head of science at Butterfly Conservation, said: “The previous lowest average number of butterflies per count was nine in 2022, this latest figure is 22% lower than that, which is very disturbing. Not just that, but a third of the species recorded in the Big Butterfly Count have had their worst year on record, and no species had their best. The results are in line with wider evidence that the summer of 2024 has been very poor for butterflies.

“Butterflies are a key indicator species; when they are in trouble we know that the wider environment is in trouble too. Nature is sounding the alarm call. We must act now if we are to turn the tide on these rapid declines and protect species for future generations.”

Crashes in flying insect populations including beetles and wasps have been widely observed during the summer after a prolonged wet and cold first half of the season.

Weather is part of the reason — we also had a weirdly wet early summer here in Minnesota, and our trees are showing signs of stress. This isn’t the only stressor in our environment, and it’s rare to be able to blame extinctions on a single source. When you get multiple factors harming a population, that’s when you get an extinction vortex.

There is something going on here. You should be afraid. I am.

A night at the park

Last night, I bummed a ride with one of our campus groups to Glacial Lakes State Park, for the selfish reason of wanting to do some spidering. Unfortunately, the trip was from 6pm to 10pm, and have you noticed, it gets dark really early nowadays? I only had half an hour of poking around in the underbrush looking for spiders before dusk came creeping in and made it impossible to find anything, and then we had total darkness for a few hours. Disappointing.

The students I was with had a grand time at least, setting up a campfire and toasting up s’mores.

I do not like s’mores. Don’t deport me for being unamerican, please. I just find them messy, sticky, cloying, and no one ever has the patience to toast marshmallows properly, so they’re also burnt.

My time was not wasted, though. Before the darkness took us all, I did spot this little guy building their evening orb web.

I think it might be a Nordmann’s Orbweaver, which would make this a first for me.


For the non-spider people, here’s the park at dusk.

You have to hate seeing your home described as “unsurvivable”

It’s not looking good for Florida today.

  • Helene is currently a category 2 hurricane with wind speeds of 100 mph. It is expected to make landfall on Florida’s Big Bend this evening as at least a category 3 hurricane, bringing the risk of devastating damage.
  • The storm was 320 mph south-west of Tampa as of 8 a.m. ET, traveling north-east at 12 mph.
  • A storm surge warning is in place for almost the entirety of Florida’s west coast, where surging waters described as “unsurvivable” could reach as high as 20 feet in places.
  • Hurricane and tropical storm warnings are in place across coastal areas of southern Florida. The National Hurricane Center said: “Preparations to protect life and property should be rushed to completion.”
  • A state of emergency has been declared in 61 of Florida’s 67 counties and several are under evacuation orders.

If you’re in Florida (or the states above it), quit reading this stupid blog and get yourself to someplace safe.


The Waffle Houses are closing! Time to panic!

What’s the least you can do to address climate change?

This opinion piece is so on-brand for the New York Times: “I Swore Off Air-Conditioning, and You Can, Too”. We’re facing a serious threat from global warming, so let’s tell all the little people to get off their butts and fix it rather than addressing the systemic contributions of capitalism and the petrochemical industry.

Most of those savings were likely the result of using fans instead of air-conditioning. We also kept other appliances and devices turned off as much as possible because they, too, generate heat. Dishwashers are double trouble, putting out heat and humidity. We don’t have one.

You can’t unplug the refrigerator, of course, but we keep ours set for just under 40 degrees, the highest safe temperature, according to the Food and Drug Administration. And we dry our laundry on the clothesline out back.

When it gets too hot, we lightly spray water on our arms, legs and faces; the water helps dissipate a lot of heat. A quick, cold shower or a little time spent with that all-American favorite, the lawn sprinkler, also can bring relief.

In summer we’ll spend as many of our at-home hours as we can outdoors, in the shady city park down the street or on our screened porch.

Well, fine. I agree with all that. We do many of those things, too — we’ve got an ’emergency air conditioner’ in the window of our bedroom that we’ve used for about a week this year, but otherwise, yes, we mainly get by on low-energy alternatives. I think it’s a good idea to be mindful about how our lives impact the environment, and turning off an appliance now and then is smart and helpful. But does this actually substantially offset the fact that we live in cities that are dependent on the automobile? Worse, we’re surrounded by pervasive marketing telling us to buy massive trucks, that we have to go to a mall with a gigantic parking lot to buy cheap plastic widgets we don’t need made in China, while wearing clothes from Shein that we’ll throw into a landfill next week. There are a lot of sensible changes we could make in our lifestyles that the New York Times would get in trouble with their advertisers if they started promoting them.

OK, here’s the Batagaika Crater in Siberia.

That’s a huge “retrogressive thaw slump”, a hole that is visible from space and is steadily growing as the permafrost thaws and its edges collapse. Here’s a drone photo of the slow-motion disaster:

Spectacular and horrifying.

Permafrost covers 15% of the land in the Northern Hemisphere and contains twice as much carbon as the atmosphere.

One study estimated that permafrost thaw could emit as much planet-warming gases as a large industrial nation by 2100 if industries and countries don’t aggressively rein in their own emissions today.

How big is the contribution of this one feature in the landscape to climate change?

In a study published in the journal Geomorphology in June, researchers used satellite and drone data to construct 3D models of the megaslump and calculate its expansion over time.

They found that about 14 Pyramids of Giza’s worth of ice and permafrost had thawed at Batagay. The crater’s volume increases by about 1 million cubic meters every year.

“These values are truly impressive,” Alexander Kizyakov, the study’s lead author and a scientist at Lomonosov Moscow State University, told BI in an email.

“Our results demonstrate how quickly permafrost degradation occurs,” he added.

The researchers also calculated that the megaslump releases about 4,000 to 5,000 tons of carbon each year. That’s about as much as the annual emissions from 1,700 to 2,100 US homes’ energy use.

If only everyone in the USA would sprinkle a little water on their arms rather than turning on the air conditioner, we could compensate for that problem. Or better yet, think of all the energy you could save by cancelling your subscription to the NY Times!

Really, though, we need something more than these piecemeal token changes in individual behavior.

It’s just Texas, they won’t mind

SpaceX has been poisoning the environment for years, and have shown a reckless disregard for the effects their launches have on local residents and wildlife, and have been guilty of dumping toxic materials in waters nearby.

SpaceX’s Starship launches at the company’s Starbase facility near Boca Chica, Texas, have allegedly been polluting the local environment for years, possibly in violation of the Environmental Protection Agency’s Clean Water Act. for years. The news arrives in an exclusive CNBC report on August 12, which cites internal documents and communications between local Texas regulators and the EPA

SpaceX’s fourth Starship test launch in June was its most successful so far—but the world’s largest and most powerful rocket ever built continues to wreak havoc on nearby Texas communities, wildlife, and ecosystems. And after repeated admonishments, reviews, and ignored requests, the Environmental Protection Agency and the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (TCEQ) have had enough.

Don’t worry, though, Elon Musk is on the case. Here he is responding to a news report on his awful company.

CNBC sucks, Elon Musk tweeted in a reply to his company’s statement.

What this reminds me of is the bro who buys a bunch of illegal fireworks, heads down to the lake and blows stuff up and makes an obnoxious racket, and then leaves a mess of cardboard and paper and scorched debris to go back home and be an asshole to his neighbors.

It’s fine. I suggest that every state dump its garbage on Texas, they don’t care.

An outpost of reason in a county of conservatives

That’s my town!

Unfortunately, they cropped out the university, which would be to the left of the top of the photo. I say unfortunately, because it comes from an article that’s all about how the University of Minnesota Morris’s Green Initiative has benefited the entire region.

The farm town of the future is visible long before you reach the city limits, thanks to a pair of wind turbines rising as high as the Statue of Liberty above the flat terrain. They pump cheap electricity into the local grid, providing the energy to make carbon-neutral fertilizer. Closer in, cows graze next to solar panels that provide them with shade. A county-wide compost operation disposes of food and agricultural waste, electric buses take kids to school, the public library relies on geothermal heating and even a city-owned liquor store has rooftop solar panels. (The shop motto: “We chill your beer with the sun.”)

Where is this environmental Nirvana that’s checking off so many boxes on the climate warrior’s wish list? Denmark? Germany? Northern California? No, it’s Morris, Minn., population 5,206, a conservative prairie community in a conservative rural county that favored Donald Trump by 22 points in the 2020 presidential election.

It’s fair to say that environmental and climate concerns have never been front of mind when it comes to votes and policies in Morris. But residents will talk all day long about rural self-sufficiency, high energy and fuel costs, saving tax dollars and eliminating costly inefficiency and waste. When Troy Goodnough, the director of sustainability at the local campus of the University of Minnesota, arrived more than 15 years ago and asked how he could help address those economic concerns, a partnership emerged that has made Morris one of the most sustainable farm towns in America—even though that was never the town’s goal.

They know that Trump hates wind turbines, but it’s all about the money.

Goodnough’s bet was that the common-sense, cost-saving goals the farmers prized could lead them to choices that also happened to be good for the environment. But could it really be as simple as changing the terms of that conversation? Yes, says Blaine Hill, the recently retired city manager who helped make it happen. “We never made it about climate. We just did it because it makes sense. And the more we did, the more we wanted to do.”

The result has been dubbed “the Morris Model” by its participants: the town, the school district, Stevens County and the campus of 1,500 students. They are making their data and blueprints available to other communities interested in trying something similar. Thirteen other towns in Minnesota are at various stages of adapting Morris Model projects. The one furthest along is spearheaded by the city of Fergus Falls, with the help of a regional planning nonprofit. They are organizing 10 other rural towns into a “solar cohort” to increase purchasing power and simplify the complex grant process to get state and federal aid for these efforts.

Goodnough sensed an opening. The Morris city government had a tight budget, and its high electric bills were a sore spot. The university, meanwhile, had just realized substantial savings by converting old lighting on campus to modern LEDs. Goodnough offered to help the city do the same, including help with tapping into Department of Energy funds to offset the upfront costs. The conversion ended up saving the city $80,000 a year—a significant windfall for a small town. Soon, the Morris town elders came to the university to ask, “What’s next?”

The larger community might be conservative, but it’s the liberals and progressives of the university that got it all started. You’re welcome, Republicans.

I have a phenomenal idea for a horror movie!

It would much scarier and less stupid than this one, and much cheaper to make.

Imagine a world in which most of the insects are dying, told from the perspective of the perpetrators, not the victims. The monsters who have murdered all the pesky little bugs wander around their homes, wondering why it’s so quiet, but appreciating the absence of mosquitos. Slowly it dawns on them that they don’t hear any birds, either, and they notice that all their fishing trips to the lake turn up fruitless. The more discerning members of the community are horrified to learn that the spiders are missing.

Maybe we could have a few species that are exempt from the holocaust. They’d probably be ticks. The killers’ pets are infested, large mammals are dying in agony. Crops fail. The protagonists respond by poisoning the environment further, trying to confer safety for their few chosen favored food organisms. Unforeseen consequences arise, worsening the problem.

It would be one of those tense, slow-build movies, where the danger increases and the outcome becomes unavoidably inevitable. All attempts to restore the planet are futile. It would not have a happy ending.

Maybe we could title it Silent Spring. Has that been taken already?

OK, how about Silent Earth?

Damn. I guess we’re fucked.