Updated at 4:30 p.m. ET on March 23, 2023.It’s been more than a month since a Norfolk Southern train derailed in East Palestine, Ohio. More than 100,000 gallons of vinyl chloride, a carcinogen, were released, with some spilling into waterways. Many hundreds of people had to evacuate from their homes. An estimated 43,000 aquatic animals died.
Updated at 4:50 p.m. on May 4, 2022There are three things that I remember from my high-school Earth-science class: the swirling pink cover of the study book designed to help us pass New York State’s year-end test, the football player who seemed more intent on torturing me than on learning, and a nagging sense that what I was taking wasn’t “really” science.
It is easy to view the ground as stable, as fixed, as immovable, even when deep down we know that it’s not. Sometimes the earth seems to shudder, as with an earthquake, and sometimes it pops, as with a volcanic eruption. Other times the earth slips, bits of dirt, handfuls of pebbles, beads of water combining and shifting until they coalesce into a cascade that blocks roads, shears homes from their foundations, and claims precious lives.
This was a year of too much rain. It rained too much in the Northeast. It rained too much in the Pacific Northwest, where, after a hazy summer of record wildfires, record rainfall temporarily rendered Vancouver impassable by road or rail. On the Gulf Coast and in the mid-Atlantic, the wettest days keep getting wetter. This is one of climate change’s twisted bits of logic: Where it was dry, it was too dry. But where it was wet, it was way too wet.
During fire season at the National Interagency Fire Center, a complex of buildings housing the top level of support for U.S. wildfire response, the coordination center looks about how you might expect. It features, most prominently, a massive digital clock and a projector screen filled with maps of fire risk and weather forecasts. But unless you’re well versed in wildfire suppression, a sight in the nearby loft might come as something of a surprise.
The caterpillar is roughly an inch and a half long with a fuzzy coat, brown but for two white stripes that flank its back and two red-orange dots near its rear. It has a soft visual texture that makes it seem harmless, charming even, tempting enough to stroke.But touch an adult browntail-moth caterpillar at your own peril.“Browntail-moth-caterpillar hairs are barbed and hollow.