Sea Level Rise Is Worse Than Thought, New Research Shows

Sea levels are actually higher than thought because of a 
mismatch in research assumptions. Predictions for the
effects of sea levels due to climate change 
will need to be adjusted. 

Sea level rise, one of the most expensive symptoms of climate change might well be worse than feared, new research shows. 

The problem is that sea levels are already higher than we thought because of mistaken research assumptions. 

According to USA Today:

"The new research, published March 4, in the peer-reviewed British journal Nature, found that more than 90% of the existing sea-level studies use a reference sea level that is lower than the actual sea level along the coast. That means already dire projections about sea level rise might be underestimating the risk." 

Those studies underestimated baseline coastal water heights by an average of about a foot. Researchers studied hundreds of scientific studies and hazard assessments to arrive at this conclusion. The cause, according to the Associated Press, is a mismatch between the way sea and land altitudes are measured. 

Study co-author Philip Minderhoud, a hydrogeology professor at Wageningen University in the Netherlands, said a "methodological blind spot" between the different ways those two things are measured. 

Many studies assume sea levels without waves or currents, when the reality at the water's edge is of oceans constantly roiled bye wind, tides, currents, changing temperatures and things like El Nino, Minderhoud said, as the AP reported. 

 The AP continues:

"Adjusting to a more accurate coastal height baseline means that if seas rise by a little more than 3 feet - as some studies suggest will happen by the end of the century - waters could inundate up to 37%k more land and threaten 77 million to 132 million more people, the study said."

As you can see, this means mitigation plans for future sea level increases are obsolete before they're even needed. 

Some scientists say the study might be exaggerating the problem, but even so, this is just yet another complication as worsening effects of climate change loom. 

Also, more recent sea level studies are taking into account the discrepancy, so chances are future warnings about sea level rise will be more accurate.  

Vermont Already Anticipating and Bracing For April Eclipse Impacts

The path of the total eclipse of the sun on April 8.
We can hope for clear skies, but our track record
for sun in Vermont isn't great for that time of year.

Vermont attracts a lot of tourists. 

Northern Vermont, in particular, will draw more tourists than ever on April 8. 

That's when the rare, once in a lifetime total eclipse of the sun hits.  

The partial eclipse will begin around 2:15 p.m. April 8 and the total eclipse will last for a few minutes just before 3:30 p.m.  The total eclipse will cross northern Vermont, very roughly along and north of Route 2. 

Given our recent track record, I don't know why anyone would come to Vermont to view the total eclipse. It's really a cloudy state. But I guess we're convenient to populated areas of southern Canada and the northeastern United States.  And I suppose it's cool that day turns into night in the middle of the day, cloudy or not. 

The sunshine of the past couple days does run counter to our track record so far this year. It's mostly been cloudy.   I have to wonder if it will be mostly gloomy and dark and overcast right through the big eclipse day.  

Glass half empty me expects dense fog, drizzle or freezing drizzle by the time the eclipse arrives. A dark day will just get darker.   By the way, the eclipse path from southwestern Texas to northwestern Vermont and southern Quebec is a fairly common storm track for that time of year, which also makes me think "cloudy." 

For no rational reason other than thinking with our luck we'll have the unlikely experience of a a storm moving in tandem with the eclipse that day. 

Nevertheless, hope springs eternal. It's alway possible the sky will at least partly clear up on the afternoon on April 8. 

THE CROWDS

With that hope in mind, thousands of people will invade the path of the eclipse.  Vermont officials are expecting something like 200,000 visitors in Vermont for the big day. 

St, Albans lies right in the center of the eclipse path, meaning that area will be among those that will be the darkest for longest during the event. 

The population of combined St. Albans City and Town  has a combined population of about 14,000, split roughly evenly between the two municipalities. 

I'm one of about 7,000 people who live in St. Albans Town. On April 8, projections are the town's population will temporarily rise to about 60,000.  

I'm told I should make preparations as if I'm getting ready for a really, really bad storm. A few days before the event, I should stock up on groceries, gas for the truck and maybe booze to party with the rest of the eclipse crowd. 

I shouldn't drive anywhere that afternoon because the roads will be hopelessly jammed up.  Cell service might go down. 

The city of St. Albans is hosting an eclipse event downtown in Taylor Park.  They've ordered 5,000 eclipse glasses to hand out, so yeah, they're expecting quite a crowd.  (The Ryan Sneezy Band will entertain and 14th Star beer will be available, so that probably help attendance even a little more.)

WEATHER 

Hotels and inns around the region are fully booked. People have been asking if they camp in tents in northern Vermont, probably unaware of how cold it can be that time of year. 

The record low for the date in Burlington is 11 degrees, and the lowest high temperature on record for the date is 28 degrees, so yeah, it can get mighty chilly.  The normal high temperature for April 8 is around 50 degrees. The normal low is just around the freezing mark.

April 8 is just after the peak of sugaring season, so out of town visitors might be able to stock up on fresh maple syrup to take home. Keep in mind, supplies might be limited because a lot of people will want to get their hands on that stuff. 

It will be neat to track temperatures during the eclipse, especially if skies are mostly clear. The eclipse hits near the time of day when the high temperature is normally reached.    I would expect temperatures to climb in that late morning an early afternoon. Then the temperatures would fall around the time of the eclipse, as the sun disappears, then perhaps recover a bit when the skies brighten again.

I'm interested to see how far temperatures will fall during the eclipse. 

I'm also interested to see how wildlife reacts, too. Robins are usually back in force by April 8.  In the evenings as it's getting dark, I usually hear them belting out alarm calls. I wonder if that will happen during the eclipse. 

We won't have any idea what the weather and sky conditions will be on April 8 until a few days before the event.  Don't even pay attention to any weather forecast that's more than a week before the event 

The idea meteorological set up would be a strong high pressure system parked overhead or just to our west or northwest. 

That would make clear skies most likely.  If the high is to our west, we'd get a light air flow from the north out of Canada. That would limit haze.  April 8 should be too early in the season for wildfires in Canada, so it wouldn't be smoky.  

Although April is often stormy, another common weather feature is those super dry high pressure systems from Canada that bring blue skies and very low humidity. We should all pray for that. 

Just for laughs and giggles, here's what the weather was like on April 8 on recent years in northwestern Vermont. Temperatures measured in Burlington, weather conditions as observed in St. Albans.  As you can see, there's a lot of variability year to year, and anything could happen. 

2023:  High 45, low 28, mostly cloudy, flurries, afternoon clearing. 

2022:  High 53 low 38. Overcast, rain mixed with sleet in morning, tapered to scattered afternoon showers.   

2021: High 73, low 39. Sunny 

2020: High 53 low 37. Increasing clouds

2019: High 49, low 34. Cloudy, showers 

2018: High 36 low 23. Mostly cloudy to overcast. Snow showers. 

Should Vermont Prepare For An Influx Of Climate Refugees?

Aerial view of Interstate 89, Exit 12, Taft Corners, Williston,
Vermont as it looked in 1975. The area is now essentially a 
mini-city. Williston and the rest of Vermont might see
more rapid population growth soon due to 
"climate refugees" fleeing vulnerable parts of the U.S 

We're seeing one mega-disaster weather after another, almost all of which were worsened by climate change.  

Will this trigger a new great migration of people fleeing vulnerable areas?  

And if that happens, will Vermont be part of the receiving end of this big migration?

Experts are warning that residents of western and southern states, faced with extreme drought, wildfires, water shortages, big storms, hurricanes and sea level rise, will soon start to swarm toward "safer" places in the United States.

One projection by Matthew Hauer, an assistant professor of sociology at Florida State University suggests 13.1 million Americans will relocate because of sea level rise along by 2100, based on projections that seas along the U.S. coast will rise by nearly six feet by then.  

Where will all these people go?  Apparently, mostly north and east.  To the Midwest and the interior Northeast. Vermont is looking like one of the more desirable landing spots for these migrants. There's lots of reasons why. 

Vermont is one place where we don't need to worry about sea level rise. At least not directly.  The Green Mountain State is regarded a "safe" place from climate change.  Sure, we're affected by global warming in the form of worse flooding, periodic droughts, stronger, weirder storms, hotter summers and iffier winters. 

But we tend to avoid the worst of it all. The summer heat waves aren't all that bad, compared to other areas of the nation. We don't often experience hurricanes.  Big wildfires are exceedingly rare. Droughts tend not to be as punishing as in the South and West. 

Vermont is such a Goldilocks state for climate change avoidance that a detailed study by ProPublic and New York Times in 2021 listed the "safest "counties in the United States in terms of threats from climate change. Six of the top ten safest counties were in Vermont. 

I still don't know whether that's true, but it does make sound Vermont enticing, doesn't it? Certainly, most of the 13.1 million sea level/climate refugees won't come to Vermont. But some of them might.  A small percentage of those refugees would certainly swell our population far beyond the current 625,000 or so. 

It's easier than ever to pull up roots and move. Most people need a job, and we don't have millions of employment opportunities here in Vermont. However, the pandemic demonstrated that it's often surprisingly easy to work from home, or from anywhere as long as you have a decent internet connection.    Want to live in Vermont but your job is in California? No problem! You can do both! 

On one hand, this is good.  We have an aging population in the Green Mountain State, and we need relatively young, educated people here to boost our work force and our economy. We even have an incentive program that pays younger working families to move to Vermont to start new careers and lives. 

However, plenty of roadblocks get in the way of a potential booming population.  There's virtually no affordable housing around here. Or infrastructure, really. Plus, our population has been relatively stable for a century now. Vermont's population is less than double of that of 1900. Other states have grown exponentially.

We're accustomed to slow growth.  What if our population begins to grow rapidly?

We cherish our rural atmosphere. Our little farms, undeveloped forests, our lack of crowds.  We like our small and quirky state.  Will we adjust to many more arrivals if forced to? 

There's already resistance. Vermonters understandably cling to the small scale patterns of towns, populations, roads, you name it. We're not enamored by high rise buildings, super freeways, or endless sprawls of apartment blocks, "honky tonks, Dairy Queens and 7-11's," to quote an old Talking Heads song.  

Sprawl has long been a dirty word in Vermont. If we do receive an influx of climate change refugees, we will have to build more densely in existing town centers, and build upward. Meaning something akin to high rises. 

I can't imagine (at least not yet!) a Vermont with 30, 40, or 50 story towers.  Currently, the tallest building in Vermont is Decker Towers in Burlington, at a mere 11 floors, or 124 feet tall. Vermont has the distinction of having the shortest tallest building in the United States, if that makes any sense. 

By the looks of things, Vermont is going to have a hard time building anything remotely as tall as Decker Towers. Here's just one example, courtesy of VTDigger:

Busy Taft Corners in Williston is going through another rezoning effort.

Part of the change involves building heights. Currently, the tallest building you can construct there is 52 feet - about four stories.  Town officials wanted to raise the Taft Corners building height limit to 110 feet. That's about eight stories, so not gigantic. 

The town selectboard got so much blowback from that idea that they lowered the proposed height limit to 87 feet, or about six stories. That's still way too high for many people in Williston.  VTDigger quoted one resident:  "I just don't want to see a tall building in the middle of Williston, period. You know, it's a small town. It is a town. It's not a city."

Like it or not, the Taft Corners area of Williston has become a defacto small city.  This isn't the only building height fight we've had recently. Burlington saw huge opposition back in 2015 to a proposal to build two 14-story towers in the city's downtown.

It's either taller buildings or much more intense sprawl in Vermont if people flee to the relative safety of the Green Mountain State. One way or another, we'll have to choose. 

Vermont is already losing about 14,500 acres per year to residential development. (All of last summer, I heard the hammers and equipment for new houses going up in a formerly forested area less than a mile from my St. Albans house).

Building heights and sprawl are just two issues among many.  We'd have to think about things large and small. School size and budgets, taxes, affordable housing, infrastructure, broadband, land use, job creation,  cultural shifts. It goes on and on. 

Societal issues arise, too. Things that are really hard to talk about, but need to be confronted. Vermont is among the whitest states in the nation. We have a reputation for tolerance, but we have our share of racist, homophobes, Christian nationalists and other creepy people living here. 

A fair number of climate refugees that eventually arrive here will be Black, or of Hispanic, Asian or Arabic descent. How well will Vermont do as its racial diversity changes? I can only hope the resurgence of racism and xenophobia in the United States doesn't intensify further nationally and here in Vermont.   

We have slightly less but still real conflict points too.  Many Vermonters still dismissively refer to newcomers as "flatlanders" who supposedly don't fit in or bring their "problematic" ways of life to the Green Mountain State. 

It'll probably be best to welcome climate refugees if we get them, since it's starting to look almost inevitable. Other locations are largely supporting what is already starting to be an influx. 

In April, Tulane University associate professor of real estate Jesse Keenan provided CNBC a list of American cities that would be great "climate havens." In addition to Burlington, Vermont, Keenan listed cities like Buffalo and Rochester, New York, Asheville, North Carolina, Madison and Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Duluth, Minnesota, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and Detroit, Michigan. 

Several of these are rust belt cities that fell on hard times during the later half of the 20th century. This might, for these communities, a bit of a resurgence and recovery. 

Buffalo, New York is already promoting itself as a climate refuge city. This city of screaming, blinding lake effect blizzards is actually regarded as among the safest from weather and climate disasters. 

Wildfires and hurricanes tend not to hit Buffalo. Heat waves are actually the leading cause of weather-related fatalities. Buffalo does get heat waves, but less so than many areas of the nation. Plus, Lake Erie tends to temper the worst of the heat waves. Bonus: Lake Erie has plenty of fresh water, so droughts are not that big a problem.

Also, there's room in Buffalo for an influx of people. As Fast Company notes, Buffalo's population was around a half million in the 1950s and is now about half that. 

Buffalo is also boosting affordable housing and bolstering its infrastructure for a climate refugee wave that has already started.    Roughly 3,000 Puerto Ricans moved to the Buffalo metro area to start new lives after Hurricane Maria ravaged the island. 

Fast Company does raise a risk that climate refugees can create in Buffalo, and anywhere else, including Vermont: Climate gentrification. Says the Fast Company article:

"'Think about the first people who are going to start migrating because of climate,' says Ryan McPherson, chief sustainability officer at the University of Buffalo. 'Those are not going to be poor people, right? Those are going to be people with resources. And so, we have to make sure that as we think about planning and making Buffalo ready for climate migration that we do that in a way that is very equitable and fair."

Wealth inequity is another important factor that we'll need to consider.  We already have an extreme dearth of affordable housing. Plus, people with wealth tend to get their way, at least more than people of more modest means. The more well-heeled could potentially crowd out people of more modest means.

Sure, we'll need to welcome climate refugees when the time comes, but we 'll need the backbone and morals to take Buffalo's pledge: Make it fair to everybody, not just the folks with lots of cash lying around.  We can't just let the wealthy drop in and snap up all the housing and land. There's got to be some fairness involved. 

Vermont is already starting to see the first few climate refugees. For instance, at least three families fled Paradise, California after the town was destroyed by a 2018 wildfire and ended up in the Green Mountain State. 

For instance the Boston Globe profiled the Holden family, who lost everything to the Paradise fire, and subsequently moved to "safer" Proctor, Vermont to start a new life.  They did a lot of research, including watching YouTube videos of the horrible 2011 tropical storm Irene flooding.  They were relieved that the Proctor/Rutland area, while damaged by the flood, was mostly intact after the disaster, unlike Paradise, California.  

And the house they purchased did not suffer any flood damage from Irene. 

The current small influx of people is manageable, and judging from the Globe article, the Holdens seem to be settling in just fine in Proctor. 

However climate change and its effects on human behavior often hit in sudden and surprising ways. Good, smart people in Vermont  are beginning to at least think about how to deal with this potential influx of people.

As WCAX-TV reported last year, we need to do a lot more to prepare for this possible influx: 

"UVM Professor of Community Development and Applied Economics Chris Koliba says from a social and economic standpoint, Vermont probably isn't ready to take in more people."

Koliba's remarks to WCAX in December, 2021 are not doubt just as true now. 

Note that we had a bit of an influx of people during the early months of the Covid pandemic, and that made the state's housing shortage worse, and strained schools and infrastructure to at least some extent.

The potential influx of climate refugees to Vermont does not at all have to be a bad thing. As Seven Days reported in January, these newcomers can inject the state's economy with new jobs and commerce, rescue flagging local schools and expand Vermont's tax base. 

As Seven Days notes, as long as we plan soberly, and welcome people of all income types, especially the squeezed middle class, and keep our rural character, we can reap the economic benefits. This could easily be a win for Vermont. Which sounds harsh, since climate change is such a loss.  " 

As for me, I'm absolutely for welcoming people to Vermont.  But we have to do it right and well. There won't be any do-overs. 

 

The Annual Autumn Vermont Garden Disassemble Is Like A Natural Theatrical Production Closing

The closing fall act of part of my gardens in St.  Albans, Vermont.
Time to tear it down for the season and plan for an even
bigger, better show next season.

 I'm always a little sad this time of year when a Vermont gardening season ends for the autumn.  Like the feeling you get at the end of the best play or movie you've ever seen. 

I'm mostly a flower gardener, so I picture the growing season as a theatrical arc. 

The opening act of the show are the early springtime crocuses and daffodils, and end with asters and surviving sunflowers. In between, a big cast of actors, I mean flowers, have their big moments.

My husband is a theatrical set designer. When a play runs its course, and it's time to close it down and disassemble everything, that process is known as "strike."

So as the air cools, what's going on in my Vermont gardens is "strike."  It's time to tear everything down, and lay the groundwork for the next big production, which will of course open next spring. 

Garden "strike" is a lot of work. You have to cut back the dead and dying perennials, heavily mulch the most sensitive plants, protect the evergreens from marauding winter deer and other animals. That's just the start. There's tons of other tasks to complete before the snow really flies. 

"Strike" is an all hands on deck activity in the theater, and in the garden. 

As much work as it is, and the regret we feel from the annual loss of garden color as winter sets in, there's a lot of positives. The annual autumn ritual of "strike" makes me feel in tune with the seasons, with nature, and its cycles. .

I have ADHD, which makes routines a challenge for me. Ma Nature forces me to pay attention to her routine. I'd better act on her directives or else. If I don't the next gardening theatrical production collapses. 

The chit chat during a theatrical strike often involves what went right, and what went wrong with the just-ended production.  The conversation also looks forward to what the crew will do for the next play or show. How to make the next performance even better than the last. 

It's the same way in a Vermont garden this time of year. It's time to assess, and plan what to do next year to make the show better, more spectacular, able to draw a crowd. 

During the garden strike, I tear out a fixture that once worked great, but no longer does. The plant is now ugly, or doesn't fit with the scheme anymore. It's often too late in the autumn to put something in the failure's place, so that goes into the plan for next year's show. 

The show will get bigger, so I'm adding beds. And throwing in some bulbs to expand the early spring cast next April and May. 

Some of the actors will have new roles. For instance, over time, some nice ferns have gotten lost in a sea of larger flowers where they are now. Time to transplant the decorative ferns into a shade garden, so they can have a starring role for a change. 

Theatrical strikes move quickly.  It's amazing how fast an entire set is taken down, disassembled, and stored away neatly for next time. Just like the theater, I'm under a deadline, too.

Everything has to get done before the snow flies and the ground freezes. Winter is part of the production, too.

Now that I'm getting my ideas together, winter will be a time of table reads, set designing, rehearsals and other preparations.  After all, it's only a matter of time before opening day arrives in the theater that is a big perennial garden.