chinook (king) salmon populations have been in decline over the last decade. these salmon are critical contributors to the subsistence resources for the residents of tyonek. sport fishers, tourists, and locals rely on healthy chinook populations as well. 

there has been a longstanding consensus among aquatic scientists that ocean conditions are the primary driver for lower salmon returns. but in july of 2020, a study led by uaa and uaf offered groundbreaking evidence that freshwater habitat health may play a large role too. according to uaa aquatic ecologist leslie jones, this research sought to determine “if there were any indications that conditions in freshwater habitats during spawning or rearing may have impacted productivity, to see whether or not streamflow or stream temperature might have contributed to chinook declines.” among its many findings, the study showed that hotter summers lead to decreased chinook populations in lowland rivers. most notably, chinook in the warmest streams suffered substantially when stream temperatures rose above 64 degrees fahrenheit for at least a week or longer.

the deshka river is one such ecosystem. located in the mat-su basin in south central alaska, it is an important freshwater habitat for migrating and spawning chinook. last summer 18,583 were recorded swimming up this river. but chinook populations will be gravely impacted in water above 20ºc, and in recent years, the deshka river has recorded temperatures as high as 27°c  (81.1°f). weekly water temperatures are projected to exceed 26.0°c by 2060 (mauger et. al). this warming presents a potential thermal bottleneck for migrating fish. since water temperature plays a critical role in the salmon lifecycle, the reliable presence of cold pockets within the deshka river are necessary for the persistence of salmonids and other fish species in the years ahead.

during the summer of 2021, i interned with cook inletkeeper, an environmental nonprofit in homer alaska, to help protect these vulnerable ecosystems. i worked with sue mauger, the organization’s executive and science director, to identify and create a conservation plan for locations with persistently cold water (called cold water refugia) that salmon will rely on as water temperatures increase. these refugia may include deep pools throughout the river, as well as places with overhanging vegetation and undercut banks. stream reaches with distinct groundwater interactions (classified as springs and seeps) also result in measurably cooler water.

about halfway through my internship, sue and i were on a five-day canoe trip down the deshka river to map and identify the locations of these cold water refugia. while the magnificence of the pristine natural landscape was old news for sue, from the moment we arrived i couldn’t stop marveling at the massive ferns, large cliffs, and 22-hour days. however, there was something off about the beautiful weather– the warmth was unseasonable and reminded me of the urgent purpose of our trip. 

partway through the second day, i looked down, and below my paddle i saw a white, floating, piece of debris. after a moment, i made out a body behind it. it was a massive chinook salmon, old and disintegrating. its face was completely rotted and its eyes were gone. flecks of flesh were hanging off its body. 

slowly but surely, it was swimming upstream. while initially haunting, i found myself quickly moved to tears. this fish, despite all odds, was still swimming upstream. it had lived through three years in the ocean and dodged countless obstacles to finally be back here in its natal stream, swimming against the current so it could spawn. it couldn’t even see! and yet it was connected to something bigger, a larger cycle of existence. the roe that it spawns may even eat its decomposing flesh on their way downstream. i knew at that moment that i needed to commit my life to this work. seeing that salmon brought me close to the countless generations of commitment to the life cycle. it brought me close to the idea of eternity. conservation is to invest in this eternal life cycle by protecting healthy landscapes for future generations.

while the 2020 study’s findings may carry weighty consequences given the trajectory of water temperatures in the deshka, it also provides hope. there are now further ways to protect the chinook. restoring habitats along the river would not only benefit the salmon, but also countless other species that are critical to the freshwater ecosystem. rebecca shaftel, aquatic ecologist with the accs at uaa, explained that “there are actions we can take on the landscape to provide resiliency for streams against climate change.” these may include “maintaining natural vegetation, [improving] shade along stream banks, and protecting wetlands, which provide critical streamflow in the summer and buffer streams from flooding in the fall.”

when fighting to protect this alaskan land, conservationist mo udall wrote: “this time, given one great final chance, let us strive to do it right. not in our generation, nor ever again, will we have a land and wildlife opportunity approaching the scope and importance of [alaska].” this statement has never been truer. salmon is life for so many alaskans. for the chinook to keep returning, we must act now.

works cited:

acia, 2004. impacts of a warming arctic: arctic climate impact assessment. acia overview report. cambridge university press.

jones, la, schoen, er, shaftel, r, et al. watershed-scale climate influences productivity of chinook salmon populations across southcentral alaska. glob change biol. 2020; 26: 4919– 4936.

mauger, s, shaftel, r, leppi, jc, and rinella, dj. summer temperature regimes in southcentral alaska streams: watershed drivers of variation and potential implications for pacific salmon. canadian journal of fisheries and aquatic sciences. 74(5): 702-715.

as we begin ascending a back-road on peekamoose mountain, i notice the habitat changing. new york’s lowlands mostly consist of oak-hickory forest. at higher elevations, the oaks and hickories are replaced by sweet and gray birch, mountain ash, hemlock, and other north-woods species. in these high-elevation forests resides a creature so rare that even hunters and devout naturalists may go their whole lives without seeing it. it is an animal that is as adept in the trees as it is on the ground, and is the only mammal species that regularly preys on porcupines. it is a creature of the night, terrorizing caged chickens on the rare occasions that it ventures into human-habitation. this is a species feared by every caged and domestic animal in the country north of tennessee. this is the fisher (martes pennanti).

we finally arrive at the peekamoose mountain trailhead with about an hour of light left to spare. the woodland here looks impenetrable and full of shadows, as it usually does after 6 p.m. nighttime comes quickly this high up on the mountain. a few hundred feet below, the shrub-land in the valley is set ablaze by the day’s last rays of sun, and i feel as though i am caught between two hemispheres. the deep, monosyllabic “whoot” of a long-eared owl reverberates through the ancient, unlogged spruces lining the mountain. a white-footed mouse, apparently flushed out of hiding, scurries over my boot and darts into the protection of a hole at the base of an old beech tree.

i follow an old deer path that veers off from the well-groomed, summit trail about a hundred feet into the woods. after about five minutes of walking, i arrive in a clearing. there are impressions in the ground here, called “beds,” where white-tailed deer and wild turkey clump together on the ground to rest. upon closer investigation, there is an entire array of animal tracks on the muddy ground below. i notice the tracks of the red fox, which are easily identified by the presence of four toes, a deep heel-impression, and visible claws in the prints. old, 19th century stone walls snake through these woods like highways, and animals use these as corridors to travel through their large territories with ease. i decide that this is a good place to post up for the last 45 minutes of daylight in my quest to find the elusive fisher.

my technique for observing uncommon or sought-after animal species is relatively simple, and it involves me staying completely still for hours on end. nocturnal animals like the fisher (my target animal) or the gray fox have an exceedingly good sense of hearing, and are very sensitive to any foreign sounds in their environment. the fisher is usually only seen momentarily or by accident, and is most commonly observed darting across dirt roads at night. the fisher is a member of the weasel family (mustelids), and is a relative of the otter, ermine, stoat, wolverine, and honey-badger.

this large weasel is adorned with a chocolate-brown pelt of intensely soft fur, and the market value of a fisher coat is mind-bogglingly expensive. in fact, my mother lovingly refers to these animals as “coats.” this weasel is found in the boreal and old-growth forests of canada, alaska, and the northern states, and was successfully reintroduced into the catskills in the 1990s.

in new york, the fisher is found in extensive old-growth forests, the favored habitat of its prey, the common porcupine. the fisher typically chases a porcupine up a tall tree, then swats at it with its paws until the porcupine falls to the ground disoriented. the fisher then flips the porcupine on its back, and eats its exposed, quill-less belly. here on peekamoose mountain, i see signs of porcupine everywhere: their scat looks like tiny sausage links, and their tracks look like tiny human footprints with visible claws. looking around i notice a number of trees missing chunks of their bark. this makes me happy, as i know that porcupines eat the cambium of trees, or the inner tissue of the bark, and where porcupine abound, so does the fisher…

i take a seat next to an old beech tree on the rock wall and wait. i have about 40 or so minutes of daylight left. this is my favorite time of day, the crepuscular time, or what my parents eerily refer to as the “gloaming.” this is the best time to observe animals in the forest, as the nocturnal species are just beginning to come out of their prospective holes and burrows. the long-eared owl i heard earlier has now been joined by two other owls, likely territorial males, and their ‘hoots’ reverberate through the mountain woods. what was a quiet patch of woods a mere hour ago has now become a booming epicenter of animal activity. deer mice scuttle over my timberlands and into the protection of the rock wall. the moon is full and a cavalry of coyotes howls in unison. they don’t seem very far away, maybe a couple miles at most. the woods become more alive with each passing second.

i estimate that i have about 25 minutes of light left before it’s time to pack up and go. right as i begin to lose hope, i notice the snake-like figure of a good-sized mammal leaping down from the trunk of an old spruce. my eyes widen as i am inundated by the almost-manic energy of unadulterated excitement. the animal i am observing is perhaps one hundred feet away from me, but its long, thin body and black pelt immediately give away its identity. no other animal in these parts looks anything like the creature in front of me, as the fisher is perhaps one of the most distinctive mammals in our northern forests.

the animal approaches, traversing the rock wall, and i hold my breath as so not to make any unconscious movements that could scare it away. it seems completely oblivious to my presence, or rather, it knows that i am there, but could truly care less. the fisher is now a mere 15 feet away from me, and its movements suggest that it is looking for food. it then jumps down from the rock wall, allowing me to observe its foraging behavior as it explores every crevice, hole, and fallen log within its territorial radius. the fisher then gets uncomfortably close to my person, and seems to be intrigued by the logo of the tree on my timberlands. this makes me slightly nervous, as i did not expect to have such a close encounter with a german shepard-sized weasel foraging only a hand-full of feet away from me. the fisher catches my gaze and we both pause. its eyes are pitch black, like seal’s eyes, and it cocks its head at me like an inquisitive dog, before bounding off into the thickets. what a close one…

the members of the mustelid family have a reputation for being some of the most aggressive and vicious animals on the planet, and this statement is at least half-true. my chicken coop is essentially raided weekly by fisher, mink, and a long-tailed weasel that has taken up residence in the woodpile adjacent to the coop. weasels have fast metabolisms and are always on the move, exploring every nook and cranny of their environment. when they hunt, weasels will kill as much prey as they possibly can and stash it in a cache, which is typically a hollow log, or the root system of a tree. on one particular occasion, a long-tailed weasel raided my chicken coop, killing 15 adult chickens, 10-plus chicks, and destroying all the eggs. it may be inappropriate for us to label weasels as “vicious,” as terms like this specifically refer to human trails, and man has a certain propensity to anthropomorphize animals. it is incontestable, however, that weasels are some of the most efficient hunters among all north american mammals. 

weasels are masters of staying out of sight. one winter day, i found myself on a ski lift in deer valley utah, which is about fifteen minutes away from park city, where the sundance film festival happens every year. that particular day was a whiteout, and i was about to catch some fresh powder on my favorite ski run, centennial. looking down, i noticed the movement of what i could only describe as, at the time, a “snow snake.” it took me a minute to realize that i had just seen an ermine or short-tailed weasel in its winter plumage. that was about five years ago, and i haven’t seen another ermine since. they are certainly not rare animals, but their small size allows for them to enter any crevice or burrow and stay out of sight. furthermore, the two weasels in the mustela family, the long-tailed and short-tailed weasels, turn white in the winter, and the black dots on the end of their tails and noses are the only things that give them away in deep snow.

weasels have always particularly interested me because of how resilient and adaptable they are. this family of animals has found a niche in almost every conceivable habitat available in the country: the river otter took to america’s mountain streams, rivers, and lakes. the fisher and the marten dominate our northern, boreal forests. the black-footed ferret inhabits the dry prairies of the midwest. while the two small mustela weasels took to the farms, pastures, and gardens of the lowlands. the fisher, my favorite mustelid, is currently experiencing a large population increase, as reintroductions in the catskills, vermont, and new hampshire have been very successful. in fact, the fisher can now be found, albeit sparingly, in princeton, new jersey. if you ever find yourself eloping in the institute woods, keep an eye out for the snake-like silhouette of my furry friend, the fisher.

mcneal, arizona—for monarch butterflies, it’s all about the milkweed. without it, the iconic butterflies have no place to lay eggs and no place for their larva to feed – especially on their stupendous annual migrations. 

monarch populations have declined steeply in the past decades for a variety of reasons, including loss of habitat. to reverse the trend, the western association of fish and wildlife agencies in january instituted the western monarch butterfly conservation plan, a 50-year effort to help the monarchs bounce back. 

some of the first steps are being taken in arizona.

at whitewater draw wildlife area near mcneal one day last month, 25 volunteers spent five hours planting milkweed to create waypoints for monarchs migrating to southern california and west-central mexico from the northern u.s. and canada – a trip that can stretch 3,000 miles each way.

the wildlife area – which is the winter home to more than 20,000 sandhill cranes – is a wetland nestled amid the arid plains of southern arizona, about 100 miles southeast of tucson. it has damp soil in places – ideal for several species of milkweed, a stalky, green wildflower of the genus asclepias.

monarchs leave the northern u.s. and canada in early fall to spend the winter on the california coast and in the sierra madre occidental in mexico, the u.s. department of agriculture says. each trip takes four generations of butterflies to complete.

the planting project was set up by arizona game & fish department as its part in the overall western monarch butterfly conservation plan, which is meant to help reverse the 74% population decline of the monarch in arizona, california, idaho, nevada, oregon, utah and washington.

the population of monarch butterflies overwintering in california last january was the lowest on record, with only 28,429 butterflies – an 85.2% decline from the previous year and a 99.4% decline from the number observed in the state in the 1980s.

bill van pelt, the grassland coordinator for the western association of fish and wildlife agencies, oversees interstate programs and projects focused on grassland biomes. 

“what these states did is came together, to come up with ideas to try to boost populations and give them areas for nectarine or feeding, and then waystations or layover areas and to take their next step on their migrations,” van pelt said.

other regions where the monarch populations are more permanent, such as california, focused on building out roosting areas – rest stops for the migrating monarchs, which only travel in daylight. for arizona, it means planting several varieties of milkweed through a collective effort among game & fish, the southwest monarch study and the gila watershed partnership.

whitewater draw was the first of several arizona locations where milkweed will be planted, but that wasn’t originally planned. a dry monsoon season for arizona delayed the planting at every other location, but whitewater draw is a special case, said cheri boucher, a project evaluation program specialist for game & fish.

“we had originally planned to do a number of these during monsoon season and, you know, august, september, october, but this past monsoon season was one of the driest in history,” boucher said. “so we have postponed most of the events that we had planned until december, january, february.”

whitewater draw already has a maintained water source for the sandhill cranes, which spend their time in shallow, muddy waters, socializing and avoiding predators. not needing to rely on rainfall to ensure the milkweed survives makes whitewater draw special, but the process of planting will be the same for all the six other locations. 

the morning starts with a quick orientation from steve plath, the nursery manager for gila watershed partnership, about milkweed and what it takes to get the plants to grow. gail morris, a coordinator and conservation specialist for southwest monarch study, also explains how milkweed fits into the monarch life cycle.

the process itself involves taking immature milkweeds and planting them in moist soil on the edge of a water source. the five different varieties of milkweed have adapted to different amounts of water, meaning they get planted in a ring type formation along the banks. the plants survive best in moist dirt, so digging the holes is a muddy operation.

“we’re all having fun, you know, digging in the mud and planting milkweed,” boucher said.

since the southwest monarch study began actively monitoring the monarch population in 2008, morris has seen a heavy decline, even considering normal population fluctuation. climate change affects the butterflies, he said, but the impact is really felt through the decline of milkweed and other native plants.

“climate change isn’t directly … like, the sun isn’t killing the butterflies,” morris said, “but it’s killing the plants that they eat, right? it (climate change) can affect the monarchs if the temperatures get too high, it can affect it in two ways.”

rising temperatures also can slow the rate of caterpillars’ growth, affecting the monarchs’ entire migration schedule, morris said, adding that higher winter temperatures could destroy monarch habitats used today.

for the volunteers, the idea of helping make a better future for the butterflies was more than enough to get them to come out. ariana tamayo remembers seeing monarchs in mexico as a child, an experience she wants future generations to have.

“they hang out in trees and it’s almost like a honeycomb of them,” tamayo said. “it’s pretty amazing.”

video by melanie porter/cronkite news

for boucher, the volunteer response has far exceeded expectations.

“i couldn’t have anticipated how many people were excited about this program,” she said. “when the press release went out, all of the volunteer slots were filled within a matter of hours, and that’s over 250, you know, volunteers that have signed up to help out various wildlife areas around the state.”

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related story

population of migrating monarchs dwindling, but experts say it’s not all doom and gloom

arizona game & fish hopes all the milkweed survives from these plantings, but as the first year of this program, it’s about learning as well. boucher said the department will be back out next year to learn and adapt.

“with any habitat rescue duration effort, you do expect a certain amount of mortality,” she said, “but we’re hoping to learn from the plants that we’ve put in today.” 

officials plan to record how many of each milkweed species survived in each location, which will help them adjust to ensure a higher survival rate in the future, boucher said.

weather permitting, game & fish will plant milkweed in cornville, springerville and safford in january and february. other planned sites are near buckeye, black canyon city and bullhead city.

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this story is part of elemental: covering sustainability, a multimedia collaboration between cronkite news, arizona pbs, kjzz, kpcc, rocky mountain pbs and pbs socal.

the united states environmental protection agency defines a wetland as areas where water covers the soil, or is present either at or near the surface of the soil all year for varying periods of time during the year (epa.gov). generally, wetlands can be divided into two categories, coastal/tidal and inland/non-tidal. both of these wetlands provide vital habitat for a variety of aquatic and terrestrial species. although, over the last century there has been a significant decline in wetland habitat. this habitat loss can be attributed to many different causes, and as a result, the biodiversity of these areas has suffered. 

wetlands such as coastal marshes and freshwater swamps provide many benefits to humans. these wetlands are highly productive and diverse ecosystems. they provide many ecosystem services, like water purification, buffering of runoff and river discharge, production of food and fiber, and ecotourism (reis, hermoso, hamilton, ward, chouinard, lehner, linke, 2017). although, even with all the benefits wetlands provide, the degradation of these ecosystems continues to rise. the reported long-term loss of natural wetlands averages between 54% and 57%, reaching up to 90% in some regions of the world. this study on wetland degradation shows historical habitat loss including a 69%-75% decline of inland wetlands in the twentieth century (reis, hermoso, hamilton, ward, chouinard, lehner, linke, 2017).  the loss of these vital ecosystems can be much attributed human development and expansion.

in an interview with waterfowl ecologist dr. michael schummer of suny-esf we discussed the loss of wetland habitat and what it can potentially mean for the wildlife that live there. dr. schummer specifically picked long island salt marshes as an example to explain the human impact on wetland degradation. “in the mid-1900’salt marshes on long island were dredged in an attempt to decrease the mosquito population (schummer, 2019).” this resulted in long cuts through wetlands all across the south shore of long island. 

in conclusion, dr. schummer stated that “the main cause of wetland loss is due to human development, urbanization, and miss management (schummer,2019).” with the loss of this habitat, it is only natural the biodiversity of these ecosystems will also feel the effects. “when you lose habitat like that, waterfowl, invertebrates, aquatic species and the wildlife that use these areas will be impacted (schummer, 2019).” the focus must now shift to preserving what wetlands are left and restoring habitat in suitable areas. 

in another interview with suny-esf masters candidate/ waterfowl research assistant, gary macy touches on the loss of wetland habitat and its effects on biodiversity. macy also turned to long island’s salt marshes as a prime example of wetland loss. “mosquito dredging led to coastal habitat degradation and it changed the flow mechanics of the wetlands, which alters the habitat and therefore the niche of the species that live there (macy, 2019).” restoring these wetlands will not only take a lot of money and time, but also political power as long island and new york have many levels of government littered with policies, permits, and regulations. 

the common theme through both interviews was that human impact and urbanization has been a major cause of wetland loss across north america. with this being said, it is important to engage the public and wetland-dependent communities about conservation and restoration efforts. in 2017, a survey was conducted to gauge the general public’s interest in wetland conservation and restoration efforts. the survey resulted in a 23% response rate of the 5,000 mail surveys that were sent out. the public was aware of wetlands in their community, and many had visited within the last few months. most common reason for visits were walking, hiking, biking, bird watching and enjoying nature. the respondents listed their concerns about wetland benefits, and they included clean water, clean air, and habitat for wildlife (wilkins, miller, 2018).

environmental communicators must develop ways to help strengthen the connection between the public and local wetland ecosystems. there is no one solution to wetland loss, but collective efforts can make a significant impact. supporting conservation organizations like ducks unlimited and delta waterfowl are important as they help restore and preserve wetland habitat. at a local level, individuals can make a difference through recreation and use of these wetlands. showing local government officials that the public values these ecosystems and they need to be protected. the development of wetlands must end if there is hope to restore what has been lost and bring back a flourishing biodiversity. focusing on coastal wetlands is important to help increase certain populations like the american black duck and atlantic brant, who use these marshes as wintering habitat. there are many species that rely heavily on specific marsh niches, like a coastal wetland and if that habitat continues to disappear, populations will suffer. 

as the environmental movement continues to grow and refine its edges, there must be a concentration on wetland habitat. these ecosystems provide life for numerous kinds of aquatic and terrestrial species. the public needs to become more informed and involved in conservation efforts. if you teach someone to love something, they will want to protect it. 

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references:
macy, g. (2019, february 20). wetland habitat loss and biodiversity [personal interview].
reis, v., hermoso, v., hamilton, s. k., ward, d., fluet-chouinard, e., lehner, b., & linke, s. (2017). a global assessment of inland    wetland conservation status. bioscience, 67(6), 523-533. doi:10.1093/biosci/bix045
schummer, m., dr. (2019, february 22). wetland habitat loss and biodiversity [personal
interview].
what is a wetland? (2018, june 12). retrieved february 20, 2019, from
https://www.epa.gov/wetlands/what-wetland
wilkins, e. j., & miller, h. m. (2018). public views of wetlands and waterfowl conservation in
the united states—results of a survey to inform the 2018 update of the north american
waterfowl management plan. open-file report. doi:10.3133/ofr20171148 
 

soledad, calif. – there is a calming resonance of nature’s finest and subtlest sounds at pinnacles national park. leaves rustle and birds warble as the wind moves between the rolling mountains.

on a good day, park visitors might see california condors circling overhead, with wingspans stretching up to 10 feet.

rachel wolstenholme, condor program manager at pinnacles, carrying telemetry equipment to an outlook, prepared to track these giants of the sky. the park manages 44 condors in the wild and serves as a release site for reintroduction into the wild.

in 1987, condors were on the brink of extinction. all 22 birds remaining in the wild were taken into captive breeding through collaborative programs with the u.s. fish and wildlife service, ventana wildlife society and the peregrine fund.

three decades later, the california condor is slowly rebounding. earlier this fall, four california condors were released at vermillion cliffs national monument in arizona, where around 85 condors live in rugged terrain along the arizona-utah line.

“in fact, this year is really exciting, because this year we had a record number of nests,” said nadya seal faith, conservation and science associate at the santa barbara zoo, which runs a condor recovery program. “in southern california, there was 12. that’s the most of any that we know historically.”

seal faith works closely with condors in captivity, observing their behavioral and social behaviors.

“it’s not only a fascinating species but a fascinating program to work with.” seal faith said. the zoo started to exhibit the condors in 2009.

she says there are now about 500 condors in the world, 300 of which are in the wild.

but the scavengers, which survive off the remains of animals killed by hunters, still battle their leading cause of death: lead poisoning.

“the only issue is that lead ammunition fragments into many, many, many tiny pieces inside a carcass,” wolstenholme said.

she doesn’t want to discourage hunting, but to inform hunters of alternatives to lead ammunition.

“there’s copper bismuth, rifle ammunition,” wolstenholme said. “there’s also steel shot, if people are using lead shot right now, like in a shotgun, there’s steel shot.”

still, wolstenholme hopes california condors will be taken off the endangered species list in the near future.

“i like to say less than a decade. i actually know we can get there sooner. it’s all about making sure that they have a clean food resource,” she said.

in december, pinnacles national park will release three california condors into the wild.

“we’ll open the trap door for them, so they can leave when they’re ready,” wolstenholme said.

joint efforts and successful releases keep her and seal faith motivated.

“it’s just been so collaborative, and it’s been so great to see so many people, you know, wanting this bird to succeed,” seal faith said. “and i think that’s just been really special to be a part of.”

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this story is part of elemental: covering sustainability, a new multimedia collaboration between cronkite news, arizona pbs, kjzz, kpcc, rocky mountain pbs and pbs socal.

republished with permission. see the original piece at cronkite news. for more stories from cronkite news, visit cronkitenews.azpbs.org. 

related: greensburg: a model to rebuild from catastrophes

traditional ways of constructing buildings create pollution and waste. building materials contain vast amounts of embedded energy. according to architecture 2030, building construction and materials account for 5.5 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions. in addition, while exact numbers aren’t available, trucks and cranes transporting and installing materials at construction sites produce considerable amounts of greenhouse gas emissions.
(source: architecture 2030)

typically, materials from torn-down buildings and sites are carted off to the landfill. the u.s. environmental protection agency says only 40 percent of building and construction material is now “recycled, reused, or sent to waste-to-energy facilities, while the remaining 60 percent of the materials is sent to landfills.” many sustainable architects, landscape architects, and construction firms are now moving towards a more sustainable construction process to reduce waste and greenhouse gas emissions. (source: environmental protection agency)

in a sustainable reconstruction, building materials are reused or recycled, dramatically reducing waste. for example, a new park can be created out of old building materials. once the materials have been separated, some are kept at the construction site and reprocessed. reclaimed soils, concrete rubble, glass, wood, and steel can be reused or recycled to serve new functions, reducing greenhouse gas emissions in the process. with climate change, any new construction methods that help landscape architects avoid producing additional emissions are a major benefit both to the project and society as a whole. in a sustainable landscape, everything old is made new again. (source: reuse alliance)

“i’d seen it from the road. i’d seen the lava flow across the road and i read about it in the literature at the wilderness study areas,” said david freiberg of the u.s. bureau of land management. “but when i finally got the chance to come up here and visit i came up over the hill and i thought wow this is…i described it as ‘tolkienesque’ because it’s such an austere looking volcanic landscape.”

this shield volcano called black butte rises just 200 feet above its surroundings on the snake river plain making it barely visible from the highway.

“very few people actually visit this area and its one of the things that i’ve been working on here at the blm is to try to raise people’s knowledge and their understanding of the different natural resources we have.”

hiking through that hostile landscape offers a tour into the recent volcanic past. sheets of basaltic lava remain extremely well preserved. black butte is identical to the volcanoes still active in hawaii today. just 10,000 years ago a lava lake filled this crater complex.