Latest news with #MODIS
New Indian Express
21 hours ago
- Science
- New Indian Express
Tamil Nadu's heat crisis: Either build sustainably or burn
As Tamil Nadu continues its breakneck urbanisation, a new decadal study commissioned by the State Planning Commission (SPC) has sounded alarm bells over rising land surface temperatures (LST) and worsening heat stress across the state. Titled 'Urban Growth and Thermal Stress: A Decadal Assessment of Built-Up Area and Climate Interactions in Tamil Nadu', the report reveals how unregulated urban expansion has created dangerous heat islands, strained infrastructure, and intensified ecological degradation in the last two decades. The study, which integrates high-resolution spatial data from MODIS LST, ERA5 air temperature records, and building footprint changes from 1985 to 2015, maps heat exposure at the block-level for all 389 blocks across Tamil Nadu. The results show 94 blocks have witnessed a steep rise in heat over the past 40 years, while 64 blocks currently suffer from temperatures well above the state average. Particularly vulnerable are 25 blocks—including those in Chennai, Karur, and Ramanathapuram—which fall into both categories, making them high-risk zones for future climate and health. The heat driver The report places rapid urbanisation at the heart of the problem. Between 1985 and 2015, Tamil Nadu witnessed unprecedented expansion in built-up areas, particularly in districts like Chennai, Coimbatore, Tiruppur, and Chengalpattu. For instance, S.S. Kulam block in Coimbatore more than doubled its built-up area from 62 sq km to 137 sq km—surpassing even Chennai, which expanded from 86 sq km to 131 sq km during the same period. More worryingly, when built-up area is analysed relative to a block's total geographical area, the percentage of land classified as 'built' has jumped alarmingly. In Chennai, this rose from 48 per cent to 74 per cent in just three decades, while St. Thomas Malai in Chengalpattu posted a 44 pc rise, the highest relative growth recorded. 'Heat stress is becoming one of the most tangible impacts of climate change. As urban areas expand, integrating heat considerations into planning is essential to safeguard communities and protect ecosystems. Mainstreaming Heat Action Plans at the city level is now a necessity,' said Sudha Ramen, Member Secretary and Head of Division (Land Use), SPC. Night-time heat: A silent killer One of the most significant findings of the report relates to night-time land surface temperature (nLST), a key indicator of retained heat in urban zones. Using satellite data from MODIS, the study shows that between 2000–2005 and 2018–2023, average nLST increased by nearly 4°C in many urban and peri-urban zones. Even Tier-II cities like Madurai, Tiruchirappalli, and Erode are seeing worrying upward trends, which could have serious health impacts. 'We often ignore how hot nights affect human health, both physical and mental. Sustained heat exposure after sunset reduces the body's ability to recover, increasing risks of dehydration, cardiovascular stress, and even mortality,' said Shweta Narayan, Campaign Lead, Global Climate and Health Alliance. The Universal Thermal Comfort Index (UTCI) used in the study reinforces this concern, with large areas in and around Chennai, Coimbatore, and Madurai falling in high thermal discomfort zones. Roughly 27 pc of the population is now residing in blocks with above-average night-time LST, putting them at prolonged risk.
NDTV
3 days ago
- Science
- NDTV
Here's Why NASA Is Watching Volcanoes From Space
NASA is closely monitoring volcanoes from space to better understand and predict volcanic eruptions, which can have significant impacts on the environment, climate and human populations. NASA is also studying the changing tree leaves, which can indicate the eruption of a nearby volcano. Scientists believe they can detect these changes from space by monitoring these changes. The US-based space agency has deployed satellites and instruments to monitor the volcanoes, such as Landsat 8 and 9 gives high-resolution images of volcanic activity and ash deposits, Sentinel-5P tracks sulfur dioxide and other volcanic gases, GOES-R Series provides real-time imagery of volcanic eruptions and ash clouds, MODIS monitors volcanic ash and aerosols in the atmosphere. Why Is Watching Volcanoes From Space Important? "Volcano early warning systems exist," volcanologist Florian Schwandner, chief of the Earth Science Division at NASA's Ames Research Center in California's Silicon Valley, who had teamed up with climate scientist Josh Fisher of Chapman University in Orange, California and volcanologist Robert Bogue of McGill University in Montreal a decade ago, said as quoted by NASA in a report published on May 15, 2025. "The aim here is to make them better and make them earlier." NASA reported that volcanic hazards pose a threat to approximately 10 per cent of the global population, particularly those living or working near active volcanoes and constant tracking can enable the authorities to prepare and respond accordingly. NASA's satellite instruments can detect volcanic ash and gases, such as sulfur dioxide, which can affect global climate patterns and pose hazards to aviation and human health. The observations also help to understand the climate impacts. Studying volcanoes from space helps scientists get a better understanding of geological processes, the Earth's interior and the interactions between volcanoes and the atmosphere.
Time of India
5 days ago
- Science
- Time of India
The mysterious black dust speeding up Arctic ice melt: What's behind it?
The Arctic, already warming nearly four times faster than the rest of the planet, faces a new and urgent threat: soot from Canada's record-breaking wildfires is darkening the region's ice and snow, potentially speeding up its melt at an alarming rate. This year, Canada has experienced one of its most severe wildfire seasons on record. According to the Canadian Interagency Forest Fire Centre , over 18 million hectares have burned so far in 2025, surpassing last year's devastating fires. The blazes have sent vast plumes of smoke and soot—known as black carbon—across North America and into the Arctic Circle. Why soot matters in the Arctic? Soot is a powerful climate forcer. When it settles on ice and snow, it reduces their reflectivity, or albedo, causing them to absorb more sunlight instead of reflecting it back into space. This leads to faster warming and melting—a process scientists call the 'albedo effect.' According to the National Snow and Ice Data Center, even a thin layer of black carbon can reduce snow's reflectivity by as much as 10%. Dr. Jennifer Francis, a senior scientist at the Woodwell Climate Research Center, explains: 'The Arctic is like the planet's air conditioner. When soot from wildfires lands on ice, it turbocharges melting. This creates a feedback loop: less ice means more warming, which means more fires and more soot.' Live Events Satellite imagery from NASA 's MODIS instrument shows a marked increase in darkened snow and ice surfaces across the Canadian Arctic Archipelago and Greenland's southern coast this summer. Preliminary data from the European Space Agency's Copernicus program indicate that concentrations of black carbon in the Arctic atmosphere have risen by over 30% compared to the 2010-2020 average. A recent study published in Nature Communications found that wildfire soot could account for up to 25% of the Arctic's recent sea ice loss, a figure that is likely to increase as wildfires become more frequent and intense. The consequences of accelerated Arctic melting are profound. Melting sea ice not only raises global sea levels but also disrupts weather patterns worldwide. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) warns that rapid Arctic warming could destabilize the jet stream, leading to more extreme weather events across the Northern Hemisphere. Scientists are calling for urgent action to both curb greenhouse gas emissions and address the growing threat of wildfire soot. Enhanced monitoring, improved wildfire management, and international cooperation will be critical in protecting the Arctic's fragile climate system.
The Advertiser
04-07-2025
- Science
- The Advertiser
Australia's environment is in decline and so is the tool needed to protect it
Australia is changing - we know this from decades of careful, detailed observation. However, the systems that provide this environmental intelligence are now under severe strain. Satellites, weather and water stations, and field surveys are the window to our environment, but these systems are under threat just when we need them most. The latest Australia's Environment special report on 25 years of change makes this clear. Since 2000, our population has grown by 44 per cent, adding immense pressure on land, water and biodiversity. Over the same period, Australia's average land temperature has increased by 0.81 degrees Celsius, with 16 more days above 35 degrees each year. Ocean temperatures have also warmed, by around 0.43 degrees, fuelling more marine heatwaves and mass coral bleaching events of the Great Barrier Reef. The number of listed threatened species has risen by 741, from 1397 to 2138, a 53 per cent increase. Counts of birds, mammals, frogs and plants show dramatic declines, by more than 60 per cent in some cases. Their decline reflects habitat destruction, invasive species, climate stress and ecosystem disruption. There are a few hopeful signs. In parts of eastern and northern Australia, vegetation condition has improved, with increased leaf area, woody growth, and plant cover, likely driven by shifting rainfall patterns, reduced clearing and CO2 fertilisation. River flows and wetland inundation have also recovered in some regions. The hole in the ozone layer has started to close in response to global action. All of these insights come from long-term environmental monitoring. Our report draws on data from the Bureau of Meteorology, the Terrestrial Ecosystem Research Network (TERN), national and state agencies, volunteer networks, and global satellite partnerships, including NASA's MODIS satellite program, now in operation for 25 years. The consistency and breadth of these records allow us to detect trends, understand drivers and make informed decisions. Australia does not operate its own Earth observation satellites. It relies entirely on other countries, particularly the United States, for critical data. Agencies like NASA and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) supply the satellite imagery and climate records that underpin almost all aspects of environmental monitoring in Australia, tracking weather, water, fires, vegetation and greenhouse gases. Now that access is becoming uncertain. The Trump administration's 2026 budget blueprint proposes dramatic cuts to environmental science: NASA's Earthscience funding could be halved, while NOAA's climate and weather programs face deep reductions. These agencies have already begun scaling back services. NOAA has closed labs, cut staff and announced the decommissioning of public data portals, while forecasting and satellite operations are under pressure. Australia has no backup. If these data streams are disrupted or discontinued, no domestic system can replace them. At the same time, our own on-ground monitoring infrastructure is ageing and underfunded. Weather stations and stream gauges are being decommissioned or left unrepaired. Groundwater and soil-moisture networks are patchy, and many regional areas are data deserts. Field-based surveys of plants and animals are even more fragile. Many threatened species receive no dedicated monitoring. Long-term ecological studies are rare and often rely on individual researchers or one-off grants. Volunteer groups and citizen scientists remain a vital source of knowledge, but formal participation is declining and long-term support is thin. This slow erosion of Australia's environmental intelligence may go unnoticed until it's too late. Gaps in monitoring make it harder to detect emerging threats or assess the impact of policies and interventions. As long-term records are interrupted, their value diminishes, and when international access is uncertain, we may end up flying blind. A future national agency, Environment Protection Australia (EPA), currently in the works, must play a broader role than just regulation. It should become a champion for environmental data, recognising that protecting nature requires knowing what's happening, where, and why. That means investing in the infrastructure of environmental observation, from satellites to sensors to surveys. It means forging durable partnerships with international agencies but also building more sovereign capability. It also means valuing the contributions of community groups and researchers, and providing sustained support for the data they collect. The Australia's Environment: 25-Year Trends report shows what's possible when we invest in data: we gain a clearer picture of what's changing, what's improving, what still needs attention. But it also shows how easily that picture can blur or disappear altogether. You can't protect what you can't measure and right now, our ability to measure itself needs to be protected. Australia is changing - we know this from decades of careful, detailed observation. However, the systems that provide this environmental intelligence are now under severe strain. Satellites, weather and water stations, and field surveys are the window to our environment, but these systems are under threat just when we need them most. The latest Australia's Environment special report on 25 years of change makes this clear. Since 2000, our population has grown by 44 per cent, adding immense pressure on land, water and biodiversity. Over the same period, Australia's average land temperature has increased by 0.81 degrees Celsius, with 16 more days above 35 degrees each year. Ocean temperatures have also warmed, by around 0.43 degrees, fuelling more marine heatwaves and mass coral bleaching events of the Great Barrier Reef. The number of listed threatened species has risen by 741, from 1397 to 2138, a 53 per cent increase. Counts of birds, mammals, frogs and plants show dramatic declines, by more than 60 per cent in some cases. Their decline reflects habitat destruction, invasive species, climate stress and ecosystem disruption. There are a few hopeful signs. In parts of eastern and northern Australia, vegetation condition has improved, with increased leaf area, woody growth, and plant cover, likely driven by shifting rainfall patterns, reduced clearing and CO2 fertilisation. River flows and wetland inundation have also recovered in some regions. The hole in the ozone layer has started to close in response to global action. All of these insights come from long-term environmental monitoring. Our report draws on data from the Bureau of Meteorology, the Terrestrial Ecosystem Research Network (TERN), national and state agencies, volunteer networks, and global satellite partnerships, including NASA's MODIS satellite program, now in operation for 25 years. The consistency and breadth of these records allow us to detect trends, understand drivers and make informed decisions. Australia does not operate its own Earth observation satellites. It relies entirely on other countries, particularly the United States, for critical data. Agencies like NASA and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) supply the satellite imagery and climate records that underpin almost all aspects of environmental monitoring in Australia, tracking weather, water, fires, vegetation and greenhouse gases. Now that access is becoming uncertain. The Trump administration's 2026 budget blueprint proposes dramatic cuts to environmental science: NASA's Earthscience funding could be halved, while NOAA's climate and weather programs face deep reductions. These agencies have already begun scaling back services. NOAA has closed labs, cut staff and announced the decommissioning of public data portals, while forecasting and satellite operations are under pressure. Australia has no backup. If these data streams are disrupted or discontinued, no domestic system can replace them. At the same time, our own on-ground monitoring infrastructure is ageing and underfunded. Weather stations and stream gauges are being decommissioned or left unrepaired. Groundwater and soil-moisture networks are patchy, and many regional areas are data deserts. Field-based surveys of plants and animals are even more fragile. Many threatened species receive no dedicated monitoring. Long-term ecological studies are rare and often rely on individual researchers or one-off grants. Volunteer groups and citizen scientists remain a vital source of knowledge, but formal participation is declining and long-term support is thin. This slow erosion of Australia's environmental intelligence may go unnoticed until it's too late. Gaps in monitoring make it harder to detect emerging threats or assess the impact of policies and interventions. As long-term records are interrupted, their value diminishes, and when international access is uncertain, we may end up flying blind. A future national agency, Environment Protection Australia (EPA), currently in the works, must play a broader role than just regulation. It should become a champion for environmental data, recognising that protecting nature requires knowing what's happening, where, and why. That means investing in the infrastructure of environmental observation, from satellites to sensors to surveys. It means forging durable partnerships with international agencies but also building more sovereign capability. It also means valuing the contributions of community groups and researchers, and providing sustained support for the data they collect. The Australia's Environment: 25-Year Trends report shows what's possible when we invest in data: we gain a clearer picture of what's changing, what's improving, what still needs attention. But it also shows how easily that picture can blur or disappear altogether. You can't protect what you can't measure and right now, our ability to measure itself needs to be protected. Australia is changing - we know this from decades of careful, detailed observation. However, the systems that provide this environmental intelligence are now under severe strain. Satellites, weather and water stations, and field surveys are the window to our environment, but these systems are under threat just when we need them most. The latest Australia's Environment special report on 25 years of change makes this clear. Since 2000, our population has grown by 44 per cent, adding immense pressure on land, water and biodiversity. Over the same period, Australia's average land temperature has increased by 0.81 degrees Celsius, with 16 more days above 35 degrees each year. Ocean temperatures have also warmed, by around 0.43 degrees, fuelling more marine heatwaves and mass coral bleaching events of the Great Barrier Reef. The number of listed threatened species has risen by 741, from 1397 to 2138, a 53 per cent increase. Counts of birds, mammals, frogs and plants show dramatic declines, by more than 60 per cent in some cases. Their decline reflects habitat destruction, invasive species, climate stress and ecosystem disruption. There are a few hopeful signs. In parts of eastern and northern Australia, vegetation condition has improved, with increased leaf area, woody growth, and plant cover, likely driven by shifting rainfall patterns, reduced clearing and CO2 fertilisation. River flows and wetland inundation have also recovered in some regions. The hole in the ozone layer has started to close in response to global action. All of these insights come from long-term environmental monitoring. Our report draws on data from the Bureau of Meteorology, the Terrestrial Ecosystem Research Network (TERN), national and state agencies, volunteer networks, and global satellite partnerships, including NASA's MODIS satellite program, now in operation for 25 years. The consistency and breadth of these records allow us to detect trends, understand drivers and make informed decisions. Australia does not operate its own Earth observation satellites. It relies entirely on other countries, particularly the United States, for critical data. Agencies like NASA and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) supply the satellite imagery and climate records that underpin almost all aspects of environmental monitoring in Australia, tracking weather, water, fires, vegetation and greenhouse gases. Now that access is becoming uncertain. The Trump administration's 2026 budget blueprint proposes dramatic cuts to environmental science: NASA's Earthscience funding could be halved, while NOAA's climate and weather programs face deep reductions. These agencies have already begun scaling back services. NOAA has closed labs, cut staff and announced the decommissioning of public data portals, while forecasting and satellite operations are under pressure. Australia has no backup. If these data streams are disrupted or discontinued, no domestic system can replace them. At the same time, our own on-ground monitoring infrastructure is ageing and underfunded. Weather stations and stream gauges are being decommissioned or left unrepaired. Groundwater and soil-moisture networks are patchy, and many regional areas are data deserts. Field-based surveys of plants and animals are even more fragile. Many threatened species receive no dedicated monitoring. Long-term ecological studies are rare and often rely on individual researchers or one-off grants. Volunteer groups and citizen scientists remain a vital source of knowledge, but formal participation is declining and long-term support is thin. This slow erosion of Australia's environmental intelligence may go unnoticed until it's too late. Gaps in monitoring make it harder to detect emerging threats or assess the impact of policies and interventions. As long-term records are interrupted, their value diminishes, and when international access is uncertain, we may end up flying blind. A future national agency, Environment Protection Australia (EPA), currently in the works, must play a broader role than just regulation. It should become a champion for environmental data, recognising that protecting nature requires knowing what's happening, where, and why. That means investing in the infrastructure of environmental observation, from satellites to sensors to surveys. It means forging durable partnerships with international agencies but also building more sovereign capability. It also means valuing the contributions of community groups and researchers, and providing sustained support for the data they collect. The Australia's Environment: 25-Year Trends report shows what's possible when we invest in data: we gain a clearer picture of what's changing, what's improving, what still needs attention. But it also shows how easily that picture can blur or disappear altogether. You can't protect what you can't measure and right now, our ability to measure itself needs to be protected. Australia is changing - we know this from decades of careful, detailed observation. However, the systems that provide this environmental intelligence are now under severe strain. Satellites, weather and water stations, and field surveys are the window to our environment, but these systems are under threat just when we need them most. The latest Australia's Environment special report on 25 years of change makes this clear. Since 2000, our population has grown by 44 per cent, adding immense pressure on land, water and biodiversity. Over the same period, Australia's average land temperature has increased by 0.81 degrees Celsius, with 16 more days above 35 degrees each year. Ocean temperatures have also warmed, by around 0.43 degrees, fuelling more marine heatwaves and mass coral bleaching events of the Great Barrier Reef. The number of listed threatened species has risen by 741, from 1397 to 2138, a 53 per cent increase. Counts of birds, mammals, frogs and plants show dramatic declines, by more than 60 per cent in some cases. Their decline reflects habitat destruction, invasive species, climate stress and ecosystem disruption. There are a few hopeful signs. In parts of eastern and northern Australia, vegetation condition has improved, with increased leaf area, woody growth, and plant cover, likely driven by shifting rainfall patterns, reduced clearing and CO2 fertilisation. River flows and wetland inundation have also recovered in some regions. The hole in the ozone layer has started to close in response to global action. All of these insights come from long-term environmental monitoring. Our report draws on data from the Bureau of Meteorology, the Terrestrial Ecosystem Research Network (TERN), national and state agencies, volunteer networks, and global satellite partnerships, including NASA's MODIS satellite program, now in operation for 25 years. The consistency and breadth of these records allow us to detect trends, understand drivers and make informed decisions. Australia does not operate its own Earth observation satellites. It relies entirely on other countries, particularly the United States, for critical data. Agencies like NASA and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) supply the satellite imagery and climate records that underpin almost all aspects of environmental monitoring in Australia, tracking weather, water, fires, vegetation and greenhouse gases. Now that access is becoming uncertain. The Trump administration's 2026 budget blueprint proposes dramatic cuts to environmental science: NASA's Earthscience funding could be halved, while NOAA's climate and weather programs face deep reductions. These agencies have already begun scaling back services. NOAA has closed labs, cut staff and announced the decommissioning of public data portals, while forecasting and satellite operations are under pressure. Australia has no backup. If these data streams are disrupted or discontinued, no domestic system can replace them. At the same time, our own on-ground monitoring infrastructure is ageing and underfunded. Weather stations and stream gauges are being decommissioned or left unrepaired. Groundwater and soil-moisture networks are patchy, and many regional areas are data deserts. Field-based surveys of plants and animals are even more fragile. Many threatened species receive no dedicated monitoring. Long-term ecological studies are rare and often rely on individual researchers or one-off grants. Volunteer groups and citizen scientists remain a vital source of knowledge, but formal participation is declining and long-term support is thin. This slow erosion of Australia's environmental intelligence may go unnoticed until it's too late. Gaps in monitoring make it harder to detect emerging threats or assess the impact of policies and interventions. As long-term records are interrupted, their value diminishes, and when international access is uncertain, we may end up flying blind. A future national agency, Environment Protection Australia (EPA), currently in the works, must play a broader role than just regulation. It should become a champion for environmental data, recognising that protecting nature requires knowing what's happening, where, and why. That means investing in the infrastructure of environmental observation, from satellites to sensors to surveys. It means forging durable partnerships with international agencies but also building more sovereign capability. It also means valuing the contributions of community groups and researchers, and providing sustained support for the data they collect. The Australia's Environment: 25-Year Trends report shows what's possible when we invest in data: we gain a clearer picture of what's changing, what's improving, what still needs attention. But it also shows how easily that picture can blur or disappear altogether. You can't protect what you can't measure and right now, our ability to measure itself needs to be protected.
Yahoo
18-06-2025
- Science
- Yahoo
NASA satellite sees sea ice crack apart in Canada
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. NASA satellites looked down on huge cracks forming in sea ice in Canada's far north. The Amundsen Gulf is named after Roald Amundsen, a Norwegian explorer who, in the early 1900s, embarked on a voyage into the Northwest Passage, a winding narrow passage through the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. Amundsen was hoping to use the Northern Passage as a shortcut, reducing travel time, according to NASA's Earth Observatory. After facing several hazards, his ship and crew successfully emerged from the passage, becoming the first people to successfully navigate the dangerous terrain. Amundsen's ship, called the Gjøa, was only crewed by six men, all of whom helped conduct meteorological observations while sailing. The Amundsen Gulf lies in the Northwest Territories of Canada. While Roald Amundsen and his crew paved the way for other ships to navigate the Northern Passage, the route still poses dangers for ships due to the shifting sea ice. Seasonal changes can cause sea ice to melt and break apart, drifting in the cold arctic waters. While this in itself may not be necessarily dangerous, if the sea ice accumulates enough, it can create "choke points" that block ships from sailing through. In this image, taken by the MODIS (Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer) on NASA's Terra satellite, much of the sea ice is still "fastened" to the coastline, but other chunks have migrated into the Beaufort Sea. This ice break up will continue for several months as warmer temperatures and wind help to crack apart the thick arctic ice. The cycle usually begins in March 2025, according to NASA's Earth Observatory You can read more about sea ice levels in the arctic as satellites like Terra and other continue to observe Earth's many beautiful structures.
