Tag Archives: anthropogenic change

The Growing Global Landscape of Glacier Loss

With frozen glaciers disappearing into the oceans at an unprecedented rate, the rise of an ecotourism of glacier viewing is hardly unexpected. The new heights of glacial melt that are feared for much of the arctic this summer–even if the disappearance of sea-ice predicted by late summer won’t be radically different or worse from previous years–suggest cause for environmental alarm as monumental as the burning of dry forests that spew smoke across the nation. The arctic sublime is, perhaps, more deeply rooted in our imagination, as the fascination of the edges and margins of the arctic as a timeless region and place. The contraction of those margins by melting glaciers suggests that our notion of acclimating to a wandering pole seems more time-stamped, in the mode of current maps, than timeless, a warping as well as a melting of time and space.

The disappearing glaciers map conflicts between two logics–a globalized world of smooth surfaces of the Anthropocene, and image of a timeless arctic wild, whose purity is frozen and lies preserved just beyond our reach. The blurred boundary of the Arctic Sea is a consequence of the blurring of boundaries wrought by globalization: warming temperatures that have been created by escalating emissions of carbon and other greenhouse gasses are creating an age of global melting–and glacial melting–where icebergs are fewer and harder to see, and the sea-ice in the former Arctic Ocean is far less likely to strand ships. The erosion of an edge of the Arctic circle, already nudged north at a rate of just under fifteen meters a year beyond  66.6° N, is mapped in anticipation of arctic melting, a surface of pristine blue bound by a line–despite questions of the margins of thawing permafrost, meltwater flow, ice-thinning or of sea-ice. Drawing a clear line for the Arctic Circle is the vestigial inheritance of print cartography, whose conceptual authority hinders us from mapping the critical margins in which glacial meltwater moves into the northern oceans and warming northern seas.

The shrinking mass of the patchwork of glaciers, mapped in part by satellite, reveal rates of disintegration more rapid rates than the ice-sheet of Greenland, in the new millennium, marked by accelerated reduction of mass, of hydrologic consequences that demand local observation. After twenty-five consecutive years of sea-ice los, late season warming created melt conditions for over a third of Greenland’s ice sheet, revealing the new face of global warming of spreading icemelt–as well as surface melt on 36% of the ice-sheet, surface melt at its highest altitudes were fed by surface air temperatures the sixth warmest since 1900. After sustained sense of limited loss of glacial mass in previous decades, among small glaciers over three decades 1961-90, even given the difficulties of accurately mapping time-series for glacier mass before satellite observations, increase loss of ice mass set off alarms. The far lower mass lost by glaciers sharply contrasts to current levels of ice-melt and widespread glacier loss, here alarmingly noted by a cautionary color ramp of orange-red.

Accelerated Global Glacier Mass Loss in the Early Twenty-First Century/Hugonnet, in Nature (2021)

To be sure, the increased interest in preserving a recording of the arctic’s vital signs–the changing soundscape of ice crackling under ships, and glacial waterflow, seek to register the vitality of the glacial landscape to bring the arctic regions to greater prominence, relating to the new scale of anthropogenic disturbance able to be sensed by their own “vital signs”: the Arctic Report Card issued annually by the U.S. National Oceanic and Aeronautic Administration since 2006 offers a rich database virtually accessible of the disturbances of the global arctic,–although the report of 2018 predicted the entrance of the arctic into “uncharted territory” as a lead research scientist of NOAA warned, with an irony firmly based on new data of surface-air temperatures, sea ice decline, wildlife mortality to erosion to ice-melt that had previously long been difficult to access. If we feel the weird weather systems as a local deviation, more than a consequence of arctic melting, they may remind us how rooted our sense of place is in the frozen remoteness of the upper north, whose icepack reflects more than absorbs solar temperatures–as melting stands to end the idea of a frozen timeless purity, as the survival of sea ice more than a few years precipitously declined, even if some fraction of the Arctic Ocean seem to still remain frozen year-round.

How can we chart these uncharted territories in maps, or can we develop the tools for a conjectural cartography as sufficiently orienting even while we face the prospect of a migration of due north–a change as radically unsteadying for mappers as removing the carpet from beneath our feet? The long-term movement of magnetic North toward Siberian islands is indeed on an uncertain course–

–shifting from Thoreau’s time to the Siberian shores, making us rethink arctic margins, and indeed the stability we were long accustomed to associate with magnetic north, a motion partly tied to melting, and which makes us take stock of glacial health, whose vitality has less to do with warmth.

Conceptual artists as Julian Charrière, whose Swiss origins have perhaps left him particularly sensitive to Alpine landscapes and glaciers, have made it an artistic mission to preserve the fragility of ice fields, sea ice, and underseas sounds of the new Arctic, offering a sense-based record of melting in images able to act as repositories of a new visual relation to a fast-melting world in collaboration with scientific explorers of the reduced levels of sea ice and growing glacial melt.

Julien Charrière, Towards No Earthly Pole, 2019 in Erratic (SFMOMA)

The arctic landscape is also made more alive by the sounds of arctic landscapes, all too easily black-boxed from our world in a denial of climate change. The sounds of glacial calving that are so resonant with the catastrophic consequences of polar glacial collapse offer a sonic register of a collapsing arctic world; the multiplication of YouTube videos of glacial calving seem a yearning to make more concrete the awesome spectacle of glacial collapse. Attempts to extract ice cores from glaciers to preserve the evidence of climactic history before it melts has also inspired attempts to record the interior sounds of glacial vitality in sound recordings of the snapping, crackling, and crevassing as evidence of glacial vitality not from the margins but center of the arctic landscape that remains–somewhat akin to how bioacousticians recorded Humpback Whales circa 1970 to preserve vocalizations as ecological affirmations of balene humanism, revealing sonic expressive sequencing and improvisation never before heard by an innovative “hydrophone” in a nature recording so famous to grow consciousness for a global moratorium on whale hunting.

But if the perception of the aesthetic beauty of whale calls were background music for mindfulness, the melting margins of the Arctic are rarely mapped they demand–or mapped at all, as they are so reduced.

The arctic circle above alaska

Global warming stands to erase the arctic as an extreme frontier, and to change the flow of sea temperatures in ways that will dramatically accelerate sea-level rise. The archetypal romantic Arctic explorer, Robert Walton, marveled at the “beauty and delight” of desolate frozen fields, even as his blood froze in his veins on the Greenland whaling ship he commandeered to reach the North Pole. , marveled at its “beauty and delight.”

Only as Walton’s whaling ship is trapped by floating ice and cannot move did his arctic reveries conclude; before the ice breaks and frees the ship, he spied Victor Frankenstein, the sled on which he pursued the monster who had perhaps duped Frankenstein to follow him to the North Pole, impervious to temperatures his creator could not survive. The novel inspired by ghost stories may invite us to track the monster from a ship that lay at the edges of sea-ice in the Arctic Ocean–

Walton’s Course and the Edge of Average Arctic Ice Edge from March through August in Nordic Sea/ ACSYS Historical Ice Chart Archive, Boulder CO, Frankenstein Atlas by Jason M Kelly

–she was informed by the frustration of numerous polar voyages sponsored by the British Admiralty to the North Pole that were stopped by ice sheets and icebergs beyond the Barents Sea. Mary Shelley seems to have mapped a desolate arctic landscape to conclude Frankenstein’s search for forbidden knowledge, perhaps as she revised the manuscript with grading contributions from Percy in England, and access to the records of the Admiralty. The arctic setting became the fatal conclusion for the “Modern Prometheus,” before the backstory of Frankenstein raising ghosts by alchemical incantations send him to fuse Paracelsianism and natural science that would long haunt histories of science. The very setting of Alpine glaciers where Shelley conceived the story found their conclusion in the arctic, both haunted by accelerated glacier loss. The register of glacial melt is a current register of the Anthropocene, whose own Promethean character is only just beginning to be understood. The northern arctic margins where Frankenstein and Walton crossed paths was still continued to be charted through the mid-nineteenth century, the Polar Sea resistant to staking territorial claims as solid land, the sea-ice unable to be mapped within northern polar seas–

British Admiralty Chart of North Polar Sea (1855, rev 1874) noting Coasts British Explorers Discovered pre-1800 (Dark Blue) and post-1800 (Brown); noting coasts explored by Americans, Germans, Swedes and Austrians 1859-74 in Red Ink

–in ways that we are currently coming to terms with as a mapping of ice-melt and sea-ice melting, in a horror story of its own that has transcended territorial claims.

The current landscape of arctic melting frustrates bounding the arctic by a simple line. Rather, we are challenged to map the rates of glacial retreat and the melting of ice sheets, that stand to erode the sense of the Arctic as a fixed frontier, whose margins are remapped as remote sensing provides data of the increasing rates of melting. While icy breezes refreshed Walton’s senses as he passed to the Arctic, if not overwhelming him with the vision of filling long-nurtured hopes of sea-faring at the edges of a geographic extremity, we lack map signs adequate to register fears of polar melting in our warming world. Niko Kommenda’s 2021 visualization in the header to this post of the increased rates at which global glaciers melt bravely tries to sound the alarm. The schematic projection captures the terror of the impending glacial melting, a flattening of the polar surfaces of the globe, where trans-arctic commercial pathways are finally being imagined and plotted, two hundred years after seeking in vain for a northwest passage across Arctic Seas.

By 2016, as the ice had already retreated from the pole,  nine hundred passengers had signed up for spots on a luxury cruise liner, the Crystal Serenity, to sail through the sudden access that low sea ice offered to the lost geographic imaginary of the Northwest Passage, a sea route around the top of North America that had become open to commercial ships, and has since become a route of commercial yachting, if it was only first crossed in 1906 if attempted long earlier. While once passing some 36,000 ice-bound islands, some seven routes have opened for ships today, and innumerable routes by yacht, stopping at the site of the unfortunate 18445 Franklin expedition and recent polar catastrophes,

Jason van Bruggen/Boat Iternational

as well as some pretty spectacular vies of calving glaciers, but demand constant navigation of the shifting sea-ice and floating glaciers by yachtsmen, and super yachts able to cross sea ice who often retrace the popular “Amundsen route” first made in 1906, when sea-ice retreat allows navigation.

Entry to the Northwest Passage in 2022/Jason van Bruggen

As we anticipate the ice-free arctic, we will brace for a shifting global axis, potentially upsetting our mapping tools, and a rapid rise in global sea-level, if the melting rate of sea ice proceeds at currently revised rates. As the shifts in global mass distribution due to the melting of glaciers and polar ice-sheet seem to have progressed to throw earth off its axis, we are increasingly disoriented not only by raging fires, or torrential rain, but by ice-melt–the sea ice of the arctic is predicted to melt by the summer of 2030, polar archipelagos melting two decades earlier than once projected, when 2050 was projected as a watershed for an ice-free Arctic Ocean, even in low-emissions scenarios. (Observed sea-ice area in the arctic dramatically plunged 1980-2020, but even in the face of such authoritative models, it is difficult to imagine the disappearing act to conclude.)

Although global mapping companies are beset with worries at the possibilities of a wandering and irregularly migrating or wobbly north pole, as extreme melting has sent the arctic regions and magnetic north into uncharted waters, we rightly worry we are headed not only into an era of submerged landscapes, but unstable relation to old orienting points. The “post-glacier” era not only has started to shift stability of the earth’s axis, on account of the readjustment of mass melting of the polar ice-sheet and global glaciers have already caused in the new millennium, but may well be tilting our bearings and sense of being in the world. The unsteady migration of the North Pole in the new millennium is a deep unsteadying, warping our sense of mapping and being in the world, whose strange behavior has accelerated since the nineteenth century in unsteadying ways, moving from Canada toward Russia in a weird consequence of globalized economies that may be accelerating its motion and force necessary geodetic adjustments to our GPS. If the geodetic maps that Henry David Thoreau devised for Walden Pond were seen by some readers as a comic send-up of the mapping of national waters of the U.S. Coastal Survey, magnetic north offered a framework for transcendentalism for Thoreau to map Walden Pond and the adjacent lake country,–tangible and quantitative even if it diverged from the compass, an accurate frame of reference for surveying and an ethical framework and way of life to liberated from social constraints, a firm foundation to a imagine a more ethical world, firmer than the sailors who vainly sought to arrive at the polar cap.

4. The nineteenth-century American explorer Elisha Kent Kane’s accounts of arctic icebergs that had trapped the search vessel on which he was surgeon soon became a media sensation of sorts in the mid-nineteenth century. Indicating the global lines of the arctic that Kane courted vicariously for his audiences in newspaper articles, public speeches, and indeed the watercolors and drawings he displayed on the lecture circuit and Philadelphia’s American Philosophical Society, of which his father served as secretary from 1828-48, seems to have engaged the nation’s attention to the arctic in ways that appear destined to parallel the upcoming attention to the glacial retreat by which the quite sudden melting of long-frozen polar ice merits action in an age of global warming. Despite a growth of climate expertise, we are painfully without guides to the disappearance of glacial markers and glacial melt that has already changed the axis on which the earth spins.

It is disturbing to find a landscape once seen as timeless to be mapped as time-stamped. Can the awe of the arctic landscape still hold awe? Elisha Kent Kane’s audacious account of first-hand contact with the Humboldt Glacier–now the Sermersuaq Glacier–off of Greenland, while now forgotten, was so vivid Henry David Thoreau even felt jealousy, as he doubted polar explorers like Grinell, for all their public celebration, had ever needed to travel to Greenland’s coast. (Henry David Thoreau echoed the deep doubts Ralph Waldo Emerson expressed in “Self-Reliance” about the value of a current fad for travel abroad as a model for personal development, calling the rage for visiting Rome or Greece “a fool’s paradise” that followed from neglect of one’s own backyard, if it promoted a Grand Tour as a formative exercise of bildung: “the soul is no traveller, the wise man stays home;” the rage for travel as amusement only leads only to travel farther away from one’s true self.)

The terrain for potential conflict of motivations had already been mapped: among the personal papers of the doctor served as senior medical officer in a polar expedition, a rather stiff Bones McCoy to Grinnell’s far more suave, searching, and elegantly coiffed Capt. Kirk. But Kane was in the end selected, given his resourcefulness and self-reliance, to head the attempted mission of a polar rescue expedition of the lost explorer, that followed recent maps of the open polar sea. He had probably hoped he might find a northwest passage, before being unexpectedly trapped by sea ice, and forced to abandon ship for a long, rather spectacular trek south, subsisting in the wild on walruses and having dressed in animal skins amidst the frozen landscape of towering icy peak, accompanied only by the canine companion who seemed to have had a clear nose for direction and never flagged in his spirits, even after Kane was forced to leave some companions in the northern wastes, as he searched in vain for Sir John Franklin and any surviving members of the crew of 128, encountering the graves on the sows of Beechey Island (Iluvialut in Inuktitut), three graves that led him to be seen as a naturalist of considerable celebrity, publishing to considerable attention in 1853 an extended account, The U.S. Greinnel Expedition: in Search of Sir John Franklin: A Personal Narrative, a gripping account of arctic travels indulging the “picturesque sublimity” often absent from the natural sciences, including watercolors of Baffin Bay depicting the refraction of arctic light that rival contemporary panorama in uncanny encounters with icebergs, dismal trying weather, and the menace of polar bears that played particular well for the increasingly urban reading audiences.

Kane

The U.S. Grinnell Expedition in Search of Sir John Franklin: A Personal Narrative (1853) 

If he found only the graves of Franklin and his crew, the encounter with the arctic wilds won him considerable fame as an explorer and scientist, compiling meteorological tables of some length for readers’s perusal. Kent Kane had fronted the wild in the popular personal narrative of 1853 would precede Thoreau’s condensation of twenty-six months spent at Emerson’s property in Walden Pond and were based, as Thoreau’s written classic, on lectures that made good on the many newspaper accounts filed at sea. In his adventure narrative of escaping the arctic extremes, the enterprising surgeon rejected scientific jargon to evoke the terror of arctic landscapes of an uninhabited wild, in ways that Thoreau cast his work against. Kane added his own watercolors to capture the spectacle of fronting of the uncanny ice floes and bergs of unknown arctic wilds that left impoverished any architectural panorama, placing rapt audiences in a harrowing story, of barely avoiding shipwreck on massive icebergs that threatened the vessel in arctic seas as the compass froze. Kane’s romance of confronting the nature of a frozen north, as if the lands were uninhabited, and he was a Robinson Crusoe of the northern hemisphere, a melodrama against dramatically magnified elements, and woodcuts that conjured the danger of the ship listing or almost crashing as he traveled off the map, barely surviving his own parallel voyage to recount the adventure Franklin never got to recount.

Ship Wrecked on an iceberg, from Elisha Kent Kane, Arctic Explorations in the Years 1853, 1854, 1855

Emerson’s maxim about the vanity of travel is often cited proverbially, perhaps imbued with new tones in an age of globalization, apart from the Sage of Concord proviso about the pleasures of solitude that “Our minds travel when our bodies are forced to stay at home.” The range of remote observation that we are able to access about the arctic this warming summer–and warming summers previous–are cause for alarm, as the number of glaciers have declined rather precipitously in recent decades, as the oceans have warmed, and their melting across the northern hemisphere have contributed and stand to contribute more to the rising of sea-level, as well as exhausting one of the largest storehouses of freshwater in frozen form.

Whether or not the heroes of arctic exploration never fully explored their own back yards with due diligence or not, Thoreau framed a prospective from Walden on the world, as he cultivated his perceptual abilities–refining his own study of the local landscape and its morphological characteristics. To be sure, Thoreau appreciated his own backyard as a source of rich meditation informed by his avid reading of Darwin’s discussion of Patagonia, Rev. William Gilpin’s accounts of the depth of Scottish coasts and Lochs, as well as Kane’s spectacular accounts of his approach of Greenland’s glacier, to view icebergs calving from its coast at first hand. The edge of Walden Pond emerged something of a standard by which he was to judge them all, and for each natural history text (from Lyellian geography to historical bird migrations pioneered by Gilbert Whyte’s Selbourne) to measure Walden Pond against. They offered a basis for Thoreau’s mind to travel, while he was rooted on the banks of Walden Pond, and even to imagine, the actual engineering of Walden Pond and the ponds of Sudbury Plain as excavated by glacial retreat, long before the “Hyperborean” workmen (Irish day laborers) came to export its precious if undervalued ice for a global market.

Kane’s sensational voyages to the arctic had made him an American hero, against whose narrative of an arctic picturesque narrative or so, Thoreau might well have sought to define himself against, but in the past sixty years, Thoreau has remained the model of local observation. Recently, as one tries to process the extent of global warming, remote sensing gives some strength to Thoreau’s point–and Emerson’s–given the possibility of considering the world from one place, without braving the elements to risk being trapped by sea-ice and ice floes of the arctic north in the rather sensational manner of Elish Kent Kane, heroized in his time as a public speaker, American hero, and arctic explorer, before Thoreau began to gain popularity on the lecture circuit in Massachusetts. He was a bit of a competitor, and arrived in Boston with the huge drawings he had made of arctic icebergs that his ship had encountered and seen at first hand as an actual arctic sublime.

Arctic Glacier, Melville Bay from US Grinnell Expedition in Search of Sir John Franklin Grinnell (1853)/ American Philosophical Society Library

Thoreau famously prized Walden Pond as a site of purity from which to apply himself to watching the world, perhaps recuperated in the enthusiasm for viewing glaciers today in an era of ever-decreasing contact with the wild, the uneasiness of watching the retreating remaining glaciers in the warming waters of the northern seas is more than tinged with a sense of melancholy, capturing the sight of the few remaining glaciers and icebergs, and summoning what is let of Thoreau’s deep admiration of the wild. Thoreau would indeed be shocked at a shifting North Pole as a surveyor who, Patrick Chura has shown, prided himself on determining magnetic North by a “true meridian” if modest in many ways: accessing the “true meridian” was a more elevated sense of moral purpose and direction, as he navigated at night-time by the North Star that escaped slaves followed to secure their freedom. Thoreau was proud of his exactitude and precision as a surveyor of farms and of the woodlots around Walden Pond, mapped “so extensively and minutely that I now see it mapepd in my mind’s eye,” he wrote in 1858, to plot his motion across lots’ property lines,–as if the exactness of magnetic north was warranted to navigate the woods accurately.

Thoreau prized the ability to detect the undisturbed wilds of America just outside of Concord, Massachusetts, and in his own back yard, cultivating his perceptions of the wilds of the continent that still survived even in the age of the railroad and outdoor lighting, the timeless glaciers–or seemingly timeless iceberg–offer one of the last sites of the wild, a fast disappearing margin of nature, in a warming world and a world of warming oceans. Now, rather than haunted by icebergs, we are more likely to be threatened by prospects of glacial retreat. In an increasingly warming haunted by polar melting and glacial retreat, twenty-eight trillion tons of global ice melted between 1994 and 2017, raising the prospect of melting of the 70% of the earth’s freshwater stored in permafrost, ice-sheets, glaciers, and ice caps. Remote sensing led NASA to say almost elegiacally, “goodbye, glaciers” in 2012, finding almost 60% of ice loss melting in the northern hemisphere, and much in the Americas, northern Canada having lost 67 billion tons of ice in the previous seven years, southern Alaska 46 billion tons, and Patagonia 23 billion tons. The skills of engineering by which Thoreau, who built his own house in rusticated style, recovering the shingles from an Irish worker as Romans might reuse pieces of ancient buildings, fancied the environmental engineering feats by which glacial retreat had sculpted the ponds he boated, swam, drank, and skated in winter. If Kane had been inspired on his expedition by maps of an ice-free open arctic sea, we have trouble not standing in fear of the prospect.

Augustus Heinrich Peterman, 1852

At the same time as Kane set sail in search of Grinnelle, or 1855, Peterman combined the arctic panorama with intense cartographic scrutiny of the islands and icebergs of the frozen landscape, trying to preserve a navigable open arctic, combining art and cartography to tempt travelers to the prospect of Humboltdian voyages to the many islands and archipelagos of a partly frozen north.

Peterman, Karte des Arktischen Archipel’s der Parry Inseln, 1855

1. The scale of global melting is the negative image of globalization, haunted by a hidden story of dizzyingly increasing global icemelt and global melting. As increasingly warmer waters enter the arctic regions it melts more sea ice, allowing more sunlight to enter the arctic ocean, whose contracting margins trigger a feedback loop as more icemelt reduces the margins of arctic sea ice whose effects we are hardly able to process, let alone to confront.

T. Slater et al, (2021), Copernicus

Indeed, we are haunted by the image of glacial melting far more than we might imagine, and wherever we live. For the mapping of glacial melting–suggested by the data vis heading this post–is best understood as something of a negative map, as well as a map of tragic if not irreversable loss. It is a map that we will not need to travel far to see–per NASA, which has been monitoring glacial loss and ice sheets’ weight since 2002, the prospect of all glaciers and ice sheets melting would provoke sea level-rise over sixty meters or 195 feet. The message of the remote sensing GRACE satellites provided from 2002 to 2017, and GRACE-Follow On satellites after 2018, have yet to hit home, Emerson might say, perhaps as even accurate monitoring is only offering provocation to assess the shrinking margins of the arctic on the ensuing loss of habitat, warming ocean currents, that send ever less cold water to the deep ocean to trigger upwellings of nutrients, and indeed land erosion that rising sea-level can provoke.

Despite its persuasive power, this map remains largely negative, as it tracks ice loss, without the more terrifying consequences of a greater degree of icemelt, with significant consequences downstream. We imagine glaciers as if they had edges, but the margins of ice melt are an image globalization and the only recently conceivable prospect of the margins of arctic melting The arctic must be understood by its margin, not a line, whose changing margins–seasonal margins, margins of melting, and margins of glacial coasts–shown as ‘dripping’ in the header to this post, a projection revealing how much the loss of ice due to global warming has accelerated in the north.

Faced with the burgeoning data of 267 gigatonnes of ice-melt as glaciers and ice caps recede, Niko Kommenda hoped to process remote sensing by statistical data profiles to render the loss of ice at specific as a sequence of spikes at fixed transects. Kommenda long considered possibilities of visualizing glacial melt as a visual projects editor at the Guardian, but the prospect of a recent doubling of rates of ice-melt over the previous two years suggested a need to illustrate the rising rate of flow as a massive shift in the calculus of water flow into global oceans. Recalling the use of spiking red to render rates of mortality of COVID-19 in American cities, if with a downward flow, he mapped a synoptic data vis of global annual change in ice mass. The global continents drip red, in a gripping distribution of the image of ice-loss that almost recall a geo-referenced remix of the classic Sherwin Williams logo, but of a world whose northern hemisphere was dripping with melting ice, as the small rise of several light blue spots suggest rises in ice mass mostly confined to high altitudes.

The map evokes geodetic take on the familiar Sherwin Williams globalism, repurposing the promise to “cover the earth”: in a projection akin to a transverse Mercator project like WGS84, flattens the earth to a single legible surface, haunted by the specter of nearly inevitable sea-level rise.

Drop Cloths & Plastic Sheeting - Sherwin-Williams

Henry Sherwin’s logo was, when it appeared after World War I, in 1919, a rebus signifying the victory of American capitalism and enterprise as it expanded to markets to a European theater, across the Atlantic Ocean, in an iconic image of free enterprise that new no national frontiers–

Cover the Earth indeed! The bold totality of Kommenda’s graphic suggests a bold distillation of international mapping tools, a drip drip drip that is almost unstoppable: rising rates of flow from the melting of global glaciers had doubled form the start of the new millennium, sounding an alarm after the first comprehensive studies of ice rivers revealed at high latitudes more meltwater leeched than the ice sheets of Greenland or Antarctica,–putting glacial thinning into prominence as a result of NASA satellite data. Remote sensing may have revealed one of the greatest historical catastrophes of losses of ice in human history, prompted Kommenda to tote up a compelling balance sheet of losses of frozen mass to embody the alarm glaciologist Romain Hugonnet sounded. The work of Kommenda’s mapping continued, as he focussed on the outlines of glaciers and glacial complexes–“The more accurately we can map glacier outlines, the better we can track their melting due to climate change,” Ann Windnagel of the National Snow and Ice Data Center, who has been trying to track the recent reduction of glacial complexes in the Arctic, Iceland, Alaska, Scandinavia, Antarctica, and Central Asia, as well as the Southern Andes, in a global assessment of glacial health–ranking the glaciers’ size and footprints as a long-lasting, enduring flowing mass of ice. To describe the “footprint” of a mobile form may be an unhelpful mixed metaphor, but the inventory of glacial size can map glacial health in relation to glacial fluctuations, ice shelves, ice tongues, ice thickness and ocean temperature, given considerable contribution of glacial melt to sea-level rise–often able to be compared with over 25,000 digitized photographs of glaciers, dating back to the mid-19th century, as a graphic historical reference for glacier extent. By tracking ice bodies and glacial complexes over time, snapshots help appreciate the extent of complexes in different regions.

The awareness of just how much glacial mass had been lost by warming became evident as it set the earth’s axis wobbling off due North in ways that may upset the geodesy on which the global grids we rely in satellite-based mapping rely. The hope to mirror the deep urgency Hugonnet felt to make the remote glaciers more immediate in a multiscalar global water cycle, able to encompass the considerable risks of huge downstream changes in regional hydrology, a fact that Hugonnet appreciates as a long-term resident of the Alps–the fastest melting glaciers offer a microcosm or test case able to contemplate the consequences of a global phenomenon of glacial melting–also known as glacial disintegration, as the over 200,000 global glaciers and glacial complexes have begun quite radically to reduce in their mass and size–releasing a considerable chunk of the world’s freshwater reserves to global oceans.

Although Alpine glaciers are far less thick than their polar counterparts, they risk to by 2050 in current warming scenarios to loose 80-90% of their mass, altering downstream ecosystems by starving them of water, even if not flowing into the open sea. The starving of landscapes from freshwater sources is striking; glacier outlines allow mapping shrinking glacial margins in many regions, including mapping glacier devolution in Alpine areas by a combination of optical imagery and LiDar, as well as old arial photographs, to help to take stock of the loss of about 30% of the volume of forty-eight glaciers in the Austrian Silvretta in Tirol, revealing a rapid recession of glaciers the recent emergency of formerly ice-covered rock face, after gradual glacial retreat, suggesting the loss of a massive repository of frozen freshwater. Zurich’s World Glacier Monitoring Service (WGMS) has already detected a doubling of losses of glacial mass each decade since the 1970s; but the picture of losses at high latitudes and high altitudes needs to be made concrete for those living on near the coasts–despite the North Atlantic anomaly of decelerated mass loss.

Glacial Retreat in Tirol by Digital Elevation Models from 2017 (Black Boundary Lines)

We may lack commensurate memory or metaphors to describe the disastrous consequences of the disappearance of glacial mass, it never having occurred in human history–and any prospect of the growth of glaciers remain quite remote, and if folks continue to feel that “the science is still out on global warming,” the multiple impacts of global thawing will be far more less able to be visualized–or the species that will survive the different possible future scenarios of catastrophic climate change. The scenarios that have been lambasted and demeaned as “theories” but the record-low sea-ice places the survival of glaciers in Antarctica and Greenland that are surrounded by bodies of water at extreme risk of accelerated rates of disintegration that may advance to general collapse by 2050–the record lows of winter sea-ice in Antarctica this June 2023, over a million sq km below the previous record low set just the previous year.

We prefer to view the arctic with awe, and at a move. Or are climactic analogies bound to catch up with us, in inescapable ways?

The current burgeoning riverflow as snowpack melts in California, but may well exemplify the potentially catastrophic effects of raging river water throughout the Central Valley. Increased riverflow from the Sierras have not only rendered rivers dangers, but changed habitat, submerging vegetation and prompting fears of erosion on narrowed riverbanks–and indeed the overwhelming of the drainage systems of the state. The changing calculus of icemelt from the Sierras after a boom year of rainfall and snow said to have ended a multi-year drought will challenge the coastal habitats of the state’s rivers, as well as endangering swimmers: surging rivers stand to submerge older habitats, and suggest the need for more local studies of ecosystems and habitat in the face of increasing glacial ice-melt. The stressors are unknown if unimaginable; icebergs suggested to be linked to awe and abundance and timeless abundance, as much as fragility. Alaskan wild lands, coastal ecosystems in Greenland, the Arctic, Labrador and Newfoundland would be threatened in ways impossible to imagine.

2. The glacial landscape is more acessible to those with the means than ever before, who might well imagine themselves as in a Thoreauvian wild. The expansion of polar melting has created, perhaps paradoxically accelerated, a new sort of ecotourism to search of remaining glaciers of solid blue ice. This seems more of a cross, to be sure, between the expeditions of Kent Kane and for purity channeling Thoreau’s attraction to the wilderness and the wild. Thoreau famously realized the glacial origins of Walden’s kettle morraine and glacial origins of Walden Pond’s purity by a glimpse of appreciation of its deep geological time as he stood by its stony shore. While the memorable image of him seeing himself in the snows of the Winter of 1846-7 preceded his epiphany of the glacial drift across New England, he focussed one spring after the pond froze on the almost animate veins and vessels in the patterns snowmelt created on the sandy banks of Walden Pond, more pronounced beneath the recently built railroad track, as the steep banks revealed “foliaceous heaps” whose interpretation he felt might reveal the secret of life, if not “nature in ‘full blast'” that he had so desired to discover in the wild. As he stood before the sandy banks of the Deep Cut beneath the tracks, as if witnessing ancient treasures uncovered by the construction of subway stops in Rome or Naples, he witnessed secrets of seasonal change and revivification of the vital spirits of Walden Pond in the life of inanimate sand, combining his own passion as a self-styled naturalist and interpreter of global history, in ways akin to the glimpses of calving icebergs, or of the epiphanic blue ice of ice ecotourists witness as they paddle off the northern latitudes in search of ecological grandeur of the wildstill able to be accessed or recouped off Newfoundland’s coast.

Thoreau famously found the most opportune moment for mapping the depth of Walden Pond in the midst of the preceding winter months, in January, 1847 when “snow and ice are thick and solid.” That winter, the arrival of over a hundred Irish laborers excavated ice of Walden for Frederic Tudor, the Boston ice-baron, using saws, ploughs, knives, spades, rakes, and pikes to remove some thousand tons of ice a day–and 10,000 tons in one week–that is often contrasted to Thoreau’s contemplation of the local and the infinite value of the priceless purity of the waters of Walden Pond. Tudor exploited the global circulation of ice packed in sawdust by train and ship that fed a global demand booming in the colonies and plantations for ice future cool drinks and ice cream on a far-flung market, in ways that offers an image of an earlier globalism, based on the growth of markets that failed to grasp the priceless value of Walden’s limpid transparency. But if Tudor and Thoreau are often contrasted, the enterprise by which Emerson was relieved to have the prospect of the “increased value” he might gain from his woodlot in Walden Pond by leasing the rights to harvest its ice to the businessman may well have provided Thoreau with a foil Thoreau detected in how Emerson perceived the “prospect” by which his woodlot by Walden Pond might recoup its cost and gain “increased value” to contrast to the thrift and economy by which he cultivated virtue while living in the woodlot quietly–and indeed fashioning a new sort of exemplary life for himself far from his father’s pencil trade or the commerce of Concord or Harvard’s academic halls.

Few sites of purity remain outside the arctic. But Thoreau discovered a method of sustained local observation of ecosystemic change that the melting of arctic glaciers demand. We risk devaluing how fast-disappearing glaciers feed ecosystems and ocean circulation, at the changed margins of arctic landscapes in an age of ocean warming. Indeed, the extent of expanding icemelt triggers not only feedback loops, but habitat loss, coastal erosion, and changing ocean currents that only local observation can track. If the order of neoliberalism dulled our senses to the disappearance of glacial mass, encouraging an era of denial even as arctic ice thinned, before the melting of 2007 trigered a shift in the thickness of sea ice with less ice remaining in the arctic seas from 2005, undermining the structures of glaciers, we are slowly leaving an era of denial in which maps are able to play an important persuasive role–both to rebut climate denialism and to come to terms with the new margins of the arctic, as arctic borderlands long imagined as permanent are poised to erode: by 2010, Greenland’s coast entered into a thin ice regime definitively, with sea-ice thinning in warming waters over the next decade. By 2019, one of the warmest summers in recorded history, Greenland’s ice sheet was losing some 12.5 billion tons of ice a day in the heat of the summer, in one of the largest events of melting since 2012.

Ice Loss in Greenland, 2013-19

If we have to travel ever further north to experience the timelessness of icebergs–“It’s taken them 10,000 years to get here, but you can discover them in just a click with IcebergFinder.com!”–the latest form of ecotourism seeks to celebrate the contact with a fast-disappearing north, whose “very narrow, very thin margins” have become far more narrow in the face of a warming arctic sea, as the surveyor W.V. Maclean told the pianist Glenn Gould, as we watch the ice floes of Hudson Bay. The stoic surveyor, pulling from his pipe, sought, like a modern Virgil, to summon the scarce abundance of the frozen arctic in ways that maps might ignore, for the CBC documentary Gould produced to show the northern reaches of Canada in a modernistic manner by overlapping audio tracks that commensurate with the “lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity” he saw as the role of art. Gathering awe for northern reaches of a nation he saw as generating insufficient awe for many Canadians, Gould clearly channeled his own fascination northward by rail and air, awed by the scarce margins of the northern reaches, the jagged edges of whose the margins of ice, embodied in the pristine barren of ice floes, his documentary reveals as a part of his own conception of art.

Pianist Glen Gould chose as a central subjects of his 1964 CBC Documentary, “The Idea of North,” the cartographer W.V. Maclean, as the surveyor with first-hand expertise of agrarian prospects of northern Canada offered a dry witness to the arctic to invite audiences to the north, far “from the noise of civilization and its discontents,” in an odd use of Freud’s phrase, not as an uncanny, but an the Virgil of unfathomably vast arctic regions entral and on the margins of Canadian identity. The surveyor offered a fitting profundity for the CBC documentary by inviting to reflect on the arctic while hearing a Sibelius symphony, which, despite the thin profit margins, was promoted as a sort of virtue that Canadians had for too long overlooked, daunted by the prospect of extensive rail. despite its thin margins, the arctic was the land of margins, demanding its own poet.

The thinning margins of glaciers and of sea ice are however increasingly hard to convey tranquility. The illusion of the smooth surfaces of global capitalism and markets are perhaps impossible to be reconciled with the jagged edges of arctic ice, or the consequences of the new margins of the arctic, and terrifying realities of the prospect for arctic melting–or global melting, a long neglected component of climate change. If the arctic circle is drifting northward at a rate of 14.5 meters every year, arctic melting accounts for over a third of sea-level rise, and the Antarctic circle shifts south by fifteen meters every year, the warming atmosphere melting long immovable glaciers. Shrinking margins of sea ice have retreated annually, as the Arctic warms four times the rate of the planet, as accelerated Arctic warming in the recent decades–spiking in 1999 and the mid-1980s–suggest that seasonal warming stands to cause massive loss in sea ice that changing arctic margins, and our understandings of the north, challenging earlier simulations and climate modeling.

These are margins that the point-based tools of geospatial technologies are pressed to assess on a local level or “downstream” from the deterioration of the arctic ice-shelf. It is as if we started to loose memories of the past landscape of the north: arctic sea ice has steadily declined since 1979 at the astonishingly rapid rate of 3.5-4.1% per decade. The scarcity of ice in the shifting margins of the north reveals quite different rates of ice melt; warmer waters beside the margins of shores have revealed striking anomalies of ice volume: the levels of sea-ice in May, 2023 were the ninth lowest on record,–considerably below the average of 1979-2022–as the decline of arctic ice elevations, the very age of arctic had precipitously declined by 2016, the “perennial” sea-ice more than two years old now a fraction of what had long been the significant majority of arctic ice.

The consequences felt downstream on local ecosystems, habitat, and coastal health we have yet to map. As impressive as statistical cryosat data on the thickness of ice-sheets across Greenland and arctic regions, we remain fettered by the difficulty of cognitively processing of ice-thickness anomalies, as great as they are, of a pointillistic character–to quote geographer Bill Rankin, whose coining of the term pointillistic cartography may well be steeped in his arctic surveys.

Sea Ice Thickness Anomaly For April 2023, Relative to 1997-2020/CryoSat 2, AWI, v. 2.5I

Only by looking in an iterative, analog fashion at the downstream consequences of habitat and ecological niches can we train our minds to better interpret statistical pixellation of ice-thickness variability, and the consequences of those dark blue pixels that crowd Greenland’s northeastern coast, and much of the Canadian far north on the edges or expanding margins of the once-stable Arctic Circle. Each deep blue dot of a meter and half anomalies in reading the fields of light blue pixels the Interferometric Radar Altimeter notes, where warming waters move north of the arctic circle, driving the rapid rates of ongoing steady shrinking of polar sea ice–and the disappearance of permanent sea ice, to judge by the seasonal retreat of frozen seawater in recent memory from the pole during the past two decades against the 1981-2010 median.

While we isolate this as a northern phenomenon, limited to an “Arctic Sea,” its constitutes nothing less than an undermining of the collective memory of oceans of the flora and fauna who are its residents–perhaps particularly in Alaska and Canada’s north, but also Siberia and Greenland.

Seasonal Extent of Sea-Ice at North Pole against Median (yellow line), September, 1980-2020/ NASA Earth Observatory

The decline of the age of arctic sea ice is a diminution of arctic memory, and a change in the arctic landscape. It was not anticipated however, in ways that may seem to accelerate the fast-changing nature. Despite longstanding convictions of the immunity of Arctic permafrost to global climate change, as if the coldest areas were somehow immunized or inoculated against thawing.

Yet Google Earth Engine datasets have over the last fourteen years indicated a massive increased in arctic landslides triggered by melted ice in the permafrost during the summer months–“thaw slumps” of long frozen matter able to release potent greenhouse gases as methane emissions in the atmosphere and carbon dioxide in the fastest warming areas of the world of the high Arctic are unable to be stopped–reshaping the arctic landscape in ways that may in time lead to the eventual disintegration of the ice sheet. Glacial melting prompts the growth of coastal landslides created by the collapse of rock glaciers long held together by ice–avalanches and landslides grew in 2014-19 across the warming north, catalyzed or triggered by glacial retreat. In the face of such expansive rewriting of the arctic margins, we risk ignoring the more analog, recursive, local observations of wildlife and habitat that Henry David Thoreau, for one, detected at Walden Pond’s margins, preserving tallies of the dates at which irises, lilies and blueberries bloomed around Walden Pond, allowed Charles Davis and Richard Primack to understand and indeed measure the climate change by howh warming’s shifted the dates of flowering of irises and lilie–giving new sense to Thoreau’s stay at Walden as an experiment,–beyond as one of living in nature or refining his own abilities of sense-perception, but providing an experimental baseline to observe the effects of global warming.

The growing margins of glaciers, including ice tongues form from the flow of ice from many northern glaciers in the northern glaciers of Greenland’s ice sheet and the largest southern glaciers track the migration of long-frozen ice to the arctic sea, increasingly visible in the last twenty years. But can we come to terms with the study of their effects outside of similar analog observations?

Greenland’s Melting Ice Sheet/NASA/GSFC

3. The retreat of glacial ice sheets in Greenland, which is melting in a warming ocean past the point of no return, is already losing 255 gigatons of ice each year, 2003-16, and while its melting is not inevitable, its melting–measurable by elevation loss–would increase as its elevation lowers to an ever warmer atmosphere. And as the coast of Greenland, long a source of iceberg transit, seems to melt, he viewing of icebergs, those last remnants of a frozen Arctic Ocean, are tracked not as sites of self-reliance, are crowd-sourced for tourists, as if testimonies still promising access to a divine,–

-as if to arrive at the Walden-like purity of a blue-tinged spectacle of ice off the shores of Labrador or Newfoundland, while they are still visible, still floating as remants in the warming arctic waters.

IcebergFinder.com/Newfoundland and Labrador

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Filed under anthropocene, arctic melting, climate change, climate modeling, global warming

Deep Blue Openings in an Increasingly Sound-Filled World

The detection of sound provides a primary registers by which we are able to judge spatial relations and experience space.  But sensitivity to auditory sensations may be increasingly compromised to orient ourselves across much of the country; the epidemic of the extinction of “quite places” in the modern world has created a deep alienation form sounds of place, even as we can continue to map place, and a dramatic contraction of auditory horizons by which we perceive the world.   Increasingly impacted by a barrage of anthropogenic sounds, the alienation that is increasingly common from natural ecosystems of sound, and predominance of sound pollution, has led acoustic ecologist Gordon Hempton to devote increasing energies to making sound recordings of areas of natural sound ecologies of the Northwest in Washington State’s Olympic peninsula.  The region, one of the few “deep blue” areas in recent mappings of increasingly elevated sound-polluted areas indelibly shape the acoustic and indeed neurological experience of place across the nation.  Registering the increasing presence of anthropogenic noice along thresholds of decibel levels creates an image of the dramatic contraction of sound horizons that Hempton is so interested in preserving.  The below map, created by computer algorithms, reveal a distribution that has rightly commanded increasing attention upon its release in no smart because of the recognizable mirror it lifts to our own world of a landscape–here, the soundscape is visibly rendered as a landscape that offers few spaces of blue in which to lose oneself–of the shrinking auditory horizons of most.

After synthesizing about 1.5 million hours of acoustical monitoring, the below representation of noise-levels across the nation’s roadways create a portrait of sounds likely to be heard on an average summer day presents an image of the extent of places where one can expect to encounter aural intrusions.  The flyover view illustrates shifting decibel levels across the continuous forty-eight states, but most strikingly reveals the rare places marked by an absence of human-made sound.  The almost inevitable infiltration of anthropogenic noises is only poised to grow further in coming years, standing to change our experience of place and how we inhabit the world.

The unprecedented registration of sound-levels mapped across the country and rendered by computer algorithms is a significant achievement, but a benchmark of human geography.  The shifting hues of blues used to map the registration of sounds at above-average decibel levels reveal a significant diffusion of high levels of background sound across the nation–and suggests the radical changes our national soundscape has experienced in recent decades.  For background noises have become an almost inescapable aspect of daily life.  While registration of auditory differences in ambient sound across space have rarely been able to be charted with such precision, the resulting map shows a national both distinguished by far higher sound-levels than the past, and a diffusion of human-made sounds spreading from megacities to the rural hinterland, leaving diminishing differences between the two:  the near-absence of lands removed from human-made sound across much of the land suggests a radical remaking of our auditory world, as loudness is no longer clearly localized.  Rather than reflecting clear boundaries, the almost inescapable nature of noise-levels across much of the Eastern seaboard, midwest, and west coast lights expanses by a dim sulphuric glow, confining “wilderness”–if by that we mean by that a space where we can listen to hawks cry, hear water running in streams, rustling grasses, the conversation of rainwater with leaves, or insects’ buzz–to a small regions of deep blue that roughly match the largest national parks.  Who’s to say that this is not a shift as significant as climate change?

The rising levels of human-generated background noise across the country may constitute a health risk, given established links between sound-levels and blood pressure; the near-ubiquity auditory interference also suggests a significant compromising of our sensitivities to the particularities of place that seems both particularly troubling and of historical note as a change in our lived environment and auditory atmosphere.

USA sound map in decibelsScienceNews

 

While reflecting human density, the map is not only a reflection of population centers–although it does map onto them–but of ambient noise.  And it is even more revealing not of where noise is concentrated, than on where it is absent–those deep blue openings on the map.

 

2000_Population_Distribution.jpgU.S. Census Map/Population Distribution, United States

 

The rapid expansion of anthropogenic noise has profoundly altered the national soundscape, and indeed made the protected aural environments that suggest the limited success of the management of sound a generation after the 1972 Noise Control Act set a standards of local and regional acoustical management.  The acoustic data was processed by computerized algorithms to exclude local street traffic as well as variable air sounds of jets that predicts spatial differentials in the levels of unavoidable local background sound even without such outside intrusions.  Human-made noise has not only outstripped population growth; the growth in rising ambient sounds has surpassed three decibel levels is perceptible in almost two thirds of the protected regions and National Parks–roughly mirroring that region of greater natural sounds, not accounting for sounds likely to be soon unleashed by the expansion of hydraulic fracking, pipeline construction, drones, and the expanding density of air travel.

The portrait of our decreasingly differentiated auditory environments raises the stakes for preserving secluded spaces that will undoubtedly compromise our own future sense of space.  To be sure, the notion of a comprehensive acoustical monitoring of the entire continuous United States is not possible, and would require far more funds than the National Parks Services has at its disposal.  But the picture that emerged of a shrinking space of silence–and a shrinking space of focussing on “natural” sounds, not generated by humans, is striking.  Even as we receive increasing recommendations from ecotherapists urging us to act to remedy widespread affliction by nature deficit disorder by immersing ourselves in greater sensory engagement, and ecopsychologists note the health benefits of hearing leaves rustling or wind through trees, the map paints a picture of a future of radically reduced horizons for auditory engagement with unavoidable nature of anthropogenic noise.  The illumination of up to half of the nation, if not two-thirds of its inhabited areas, by striking bursts of yellow suggest an encroaching inescapability of noise that may compromise our sense of space:   with refuges to experience soundscapes under thirty decibels of loudness increasingly rare, ecotherapists may be conducting some seriously long distance guided trips.  One’s eyes are drawn to those deep blue spaces of repose in select areas of the inner recesses of national parks, but one is simultaneously struck by their distance from the environment where one lives.

The imagined soundscape without the presence of humans–or filtering all anthropogenic sound–would reveal a national soundscape pronouncedly divided into relatively noisier eastern and significantly more silent western halves, reflecting the greater inhabitation of the half of  the country east of the deserts:  this seems almost an auditory Continental Divide.  When Kurt Fristrup and Daniel Mennitt of Colorado State University of Fort Collins sought to map a landscape of differentials in “natural” sound across the country, they used it as a sort of base-map on which future data levels could be read:  indeed, one can distinguish the deep green swirls of sounds of the Mississippi, silences of mountain ranges, and noisy coasts–but an expansive stretches of silence across most of the region west of the Continental Divide.

 

scivis_graphNational Park Services Natural Sounds and Night Skies

One can usefully compare it to the contacting regions of the forested United States, based on this 2012 remotely sensed map of the woody biomass of the continuous United States, released by NASA’s Earth Observatory and created by computer modeling, that reveals the growing expanse of those regions permeable to extensive infiltration by sound.

Woody Biomass from NASA 1999-2002

NASA

 

One might compare it to horticulturalist and dendrologist C. S. Sargent’s 1884 comprehensive mapping of the density of US Forests, now digitized by David Rumsey, which presented the first detailed survey of the sort, to note the decline in tree-cover across the Great Plains and Mississippi, as well as the Great Lakes:

 

United States Density of Existing Forests 1884

Wired; from Rumsey Collections

The map of “natural” sounds reveals the levels of under 40 decibels marks a threshold in the intrusion of an array of anthropogenic sounds, one that reflects the changes of how we now inhabit the continent, and how we perceive the inhabitation of space, that might be compared to Global Warming in its cascading effects of how sound spreads across its sonic space.

 And in creating a synthesis of sound-levels across the nation, Frist has not only set something of a high watermark in the sound-drenched nature of our landscape.  The marked change across the national soundscape that Fristrup has helped chart based on 1.5 million hours of acoustical monitoring reveals a shift in hearing that seems on the level of that described by visualizations of the alarming local rises in regional temperatures across the nation, which providing apparent evidence of an inevitable process of global warming:  the maps below seems to suggest similarly ineluctible changes of the anthropocene at the nation’s edges that we have only begun to track, although the causation of such environmental impact to a release of greenhouse gasses is less clearly mapped in terms of causation, and human agency less readily determined than the registration of something that seems like climate change.

 

RISING TemperaturesNew York Times

Rather than consuming the edges of the country, as the above visualization of rising temperatures across the nation as evidence of impending global warming from the New York Times, noise encroaches on the country from the more populated areas more often located on its coasts and eastern shoreline.  The region providing platforms to the world is not organized as a clear workspace or a set of clear property lines, but as corporate entities and logos, and where the bulk of the wealth produced has proved increasingly elusive for many of its residents.  But the expansion across much of the nation’s soundscape by human generated sounds reveals what an analogous trend of man-driven change, if one that one can map with fine grain, and which impacts our perception of local experience in ways that seem more easy to measure and render at fine grain.

For the compromise of the sonic sensorium across much of the country suggests the degraded sonic environment we are transmitting to future generations.  The map of the auditory landscape across the United States suggests the emergence of sizable and rapidly growing rifts on the amount of audible sound to which we are daily exposed that seem as prominent as a Continental Divide:   radically different soundscapes in different parts of the country suggest a country increasingly plagued by noise–middle America or what was once known as the Midwest is distinguished by almost ubiquitous manmade background noise; intense acoustic shocks are rendered as bright corridors of noise run along Eastern seaboard of notably high loudness; only pockets of western parks, rendered as deep blue expanses in the interior, are distinguished by sound-levels of less than 20 decibels.  The Acoustic Society of America used some 270,000 hours of measurements across 190 sites in the country’s National Parks in the contiguous United States to assess an initial picture of levels of ambient human noise that seem all but inescapable in the U.S.  If the 1972 Noise Control Act was directed to strengthen legal protections against “unwanted or disturbing sound” to regulate noise pollution, sound-levels seem  so widespread across the nation to be hard to distinguish how unwanted sounds adversely affects one’s quality of life as unwanted disturbances.  Yet we now have a means to visualize the collective rises in ambient sound in ways that are truly as compelling as maps of global warming.

The change in our aural landscapes has gone largely unremarked, in part because the data is less easily available, and visualizations were long less able to be confidently rendered in such clear detail–or the amount of data not able to be clearly synthesized.  Even at first seeing the map of sound levels in the nation released by workers at the National Parks Services in past weeks, it’s hard not to be drawn to these scattered refuges that lurk inside the map, as we shun the bursting supernovas of  aggressively bright yellow whose streaks across the overstimulated sonic landscape where most of us live.  The brightness of areas in which greater levels of sound were sensed seem to push us to the relatively few remaining quiescent places in the continent:  it is not that they remind us of just how fully the sounds of motorized vehicles have come to penetrate most of our auditory worlds most of the time, but that they seem so ever-present and so visually loud, even when the levels of sound seem to fade miasmatically into the midwest, but reflect the growing population centers across the country that undoubtedly generate the greatest noise.  The map creates a compelling picture about how we can interpret the current distribution of populations as filling the nation’s space.

\

Ex01_Mega-Region-Population_500pxMartin Prosperity

 

Much of the attention that the map has received respond to just how rarely sound-levels have been so closely integrated–or so clearly shown to overlap–with the mapping of an environmental space, or so compellingly integrated within an understanding of environmental change.

The question of registering an atlas of urban sounds have most often responded to less to subjective or individual perception than public policy issues that surround very specific local levels sonic pollution in urban environments from San Francisco to Oslo, based on visualizing noise levels across urban streets through GIS-based simulations that synthesize variations in decibel levels over time–and reflect a desire to control urban noise that even predate the Industrial Revolution, and which, R. Murray Shafer has found, there is evidence in Bern back in 1628, but which computerized maps provide a basis to visualize the results of such acoustical monitoring today.

 

SF NOISE MAP

San Francisco

cus_figure18

Oslo

Despite such concern for managing urban soundscapes, less attention has focussed on comprehensively mapping endangered sounds–and even less on the endangering of silence, which have not been often imagined as a comprehensible object of concern.  Attempts at mapping local sound-levels for reasons of public health have focussed on a local level to assess problems of noise pollution and to assess aural impositions in urban spaces–and to measure benchmarks of tolerable sound-levels in urban space.  We more often consider noise abatement in relation to crowded restaurants than open spaces or countryside.   The registration of a varying range of decibel levels across the United States created the opportunity to visualize a color-coded record of ambient sound, grouped according to spatially situated environments, applied a broad palette to geographic space based on a much larger dataset, and one that responds less to problems of placing future projects of construction than measuring the increasing ubiquity of sound-levels often linked to urban environments across the country.

The innovation of the NPS sound map of the country’s less inhabited and more densely inhabited regions presents a particularly persuasive picture of the extent of the growing uniform nature of our aural environments.  Based on the 1.5 million hours of motoring across the country to capture  sound levels sensed on an average summer day, researchers with the National Parks Service have collated an impressive acoustic topography of the continental United States in hopes to map average decibel levels across the country, and found few areas of relative quiet.  The result is particularly striking for suggesting deep scars of sound that radiate aglow from urban agglomerations in a heat map of loudness that registers the diffusion of human-made noise levels across the country, and the extent to which much of its illuminated center is flooded with ever-present background sounds–acoustic pools, as it were, of almost 50 dB, or able to drown most natural sounds from animals.  If the sound map created from algorithms suggests just how urbanized we are today, and how far urban noise-levels extend across much of the country, it offers evidence of the auditory effects of anthropocene from which there appears no turning back.

USA sound map in decibels

The picture does not look good for the future of quiet spaces in most of the coterminous United States.  The stars and streaks of aggressively bright sulfuric levels of smoky yellow–indicating concentrations in urban areas of a level of 51 decibels or more–maps clearly onto population concentrations from the shores of Lake Michigan to Dallas, Atlanta or central Florida.  The noise map reveals huge differences in noise tolerance and indeed background noise that most Americans experience as normal, and indeed the auditory expectations most bring to their days, and the relative absence of silence over a large part of the inhabited country that noise has infiltrated, from a light gauze of yellow that surrounds are largest farming industries to the clusters of noise around expansive urban areas.  In those deep blue swirling patches of the interior lie the most silent spots of the country,abysses of quiet which register the lowest absolute levels of sonic interference, far from the pollution of urban noise which seems to spread like age spots across much of the eastern half of the continent.  (The very deepest deep blue regions designate areas of background noise below twenty decibels, the sound of a ticking watch, far below  the  a refrigerator hum, and very far from the ever-present ring of cell phones, piercing blasts of jack hammers or car alarms, freeway rumble or such sudden spikes as sawing concrete that now seem to so often mark the hubbub of urban life that is often difficult to blank out save by white noise machines.)  A considerable share of the population must be quite habituated to an almost constant loudness of almost fifty dB, or about that of constant traffic–and just below that which is claimed to increase high blood pressure, tension, and heart attack risks.

Remapping the limited areas of low-level sounds top stand out more dramatically in black as isolated islands of greatest quiet gives the map an even clearer urgency as a manifesto for the shrinking spaces of silence across the continuous United States:

150216-noise_0622150367affea5ca3ca361d54b523a.nbcnews-ux-720-600

 

The map advances a narrative of the shrinking areas of silence in the soundscape of the continental United States that is decidedly not rosy, and in which levels of noise pollution stand to double or indeed triple every twenty years, making this a particularly troubling prospect that challenges the future of silence in America.  Not so surprisingly, it maps well onto a randomized map forecasting air quality across the nation in its contours, although variations in the NPS soundscape in the header to this post show more finely grained variations and seems to exploit a broader dataset.

 

Feb 20 AQI

 

 

The deep discrepancies in decibel levels however bears little clear correlation to the current mosaic of political preference across the continuous forty-eight, however Lamarckian one would like to be about the relation between collective preferences and aural environments.  Despite a tendency to link weaker support for Republicans with louder areas of greater ambient noise, the data just doesn’t bear it out in full at all:  some of the reddest areas are those register considerably greater decibel levels.  (Low support for Republicans in Maine contrast with its predominantly low levels of ambient sound; noisy areas of the South are pretty darn red, despite strikingly diverse levels of ambient sound registered in those states; noise-levels in California’s central valley are roughly equal the blueness of its coast.)

 

 

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The narrative that the soundscape implies is far from rosy, however.  What seems most frightening is the lack of any clear map of the future penetration of high decibel levels across much of middle America.  Along the frontier of the decibel divide, much of the nation’s center appears flooded dark yellow; Denver, St. Lake City, Las Vegas and Boise seem beacons in an expanding aural frontier, burning bright already in Seattle and Olympia.  The registration of these ambient sounds include not only vehicles, but from factories, radios, sirens, televisions, construction sites, trains, or mechanically generated sound of any kind, registering the range of overlapping sounds at any space at any time, in a manner more like Zefrey Throwell’s 1,000-car-horn symphony than the heterogeneous ensemble of percussionists György Ligeti enlisted in his Grand Macabre.

But the origins of the shifting soundscape in the nation might be better tracked through the appeal of the Good Roads movement of Charles Henry Davis, that industrious Quaker who lived in South Yarmouth, Massachusetts, but founded the National Highways Association in 1911, promoting the hope for an interconnected National Highway System of 50.000 miles “built, owned and maintained by the National Government,” which while limited at that time to six great “Main Highways,” advocated an image of “a paved Unites States in our day” that has persisted.   The benefits Davis saw in paved roads as an engine of economy that would raise the nation were more than only an infrastructure–“national highways will increase the wealth, the power, and the importance of this country as nothing else can do besides that which has brought civilization to the savage, wealth to the poor, and happiness to all–GOOD ROADS”–but an image of collective benefit.  The continued promotion of their benefits, so removed from views of the benefits of preserving place today, actively promoted the benefit of the ideal of a “paved United States in our day.”   Indeed, if all road maps were promoted in 1912 from South Yarmouth as useful tools that “will prove of inestimable value to the proposed national highways commission, and in addition will be of service in showing the people of each state how the national government can make use of their roads in the proposed plan” as of a piece with a bucolic vision of the nation.

 

Davis 1912.pngDavis, Good Roads Everywhere (1912)

 

Maps boosted the image of a national system of highways, and indeed our sense of access to national space, from the 1925 promotional map that synthesized the roadways of the nation as an invitation to their exploration to celebrate the achievement of 250,000 miles of national highway–

 

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–to the expansion of the “Good Roads Everywhere” movement creating a “paved United States in our day” as if it were “peace in our time.”

 

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Looking at the nation’s soundscape, it’s hard not to be drawn to the chasms of deep blue where sound levels decrease.  National Parks Services’ researchers took some shots when they compared these areas without background noise to the notion of traveling back in time to the sound-levels before Columban contact–on their apparent ignoring of the dense population of the continent before its “discovery”–one might see it as the sonar landscape Lewis and Clark experienced with the collection of animal trackers and Native Americans which composed the Corps of Discovery,  traveling down the Columbia river or pausing in their portages:  these are the areas distinguished with a sound level of lower than twenty decibels, areas where one can access a pristine auditory experiences characterized by the near-absence of the background noises that we are tempted to screen out of our auditory experiences,–and against which would stand out the perception of local wildlife.

The attractiveness of these seemingly pristine places not only provides a compelling advertisement for visiting national parks during whatever summer vacations one might have, but is a compelling soundscape of a world not likely to return, where decibel levels fall far below the fifty that almost seem low for urban areas, the deep blue recalling something like the cold of oceans’ depths.  Created by the National Parks’ Natural Sounds and Night Skies Division, it reflects their mission statement to create an inventory of sound that seeks to preserve “acoustic and night sky environments unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations,” Fristrup worries, and provides something of a watermark on our aural environments, but it is also intended as a diagnostic tool to measure the degree to which manmade noises affect owls and bats who depend on locating insects to find food–the somewhat synesthetic record renders an acoustic environment married by bright yellow splotches and sulphuric streaks, and ubiquitous noise levels comparable to hearing a washing machine churn from a distance of three feet away.

The ever-present scars of unwanted sound spread aggressively in almost radial fashion from major population centers and seem diffused across many the rural areas of the country.  The maps suggests the auditory compromises created by the road network which generates ever-present background noise across the continent’s more inhabited areas, even if the algorithm used to generate it discounted traffic, with non-human made sounds of wind and water.  Rather than present a watermark of sound levels, the map bodes poorly for the growing levels of volume in years to come.  If much of this noise-generated hearing loss perhaps on account of noise-levels artificially generated in iPods and MP3 players which funnel amplified sound into directly our ears–and which may have helped elevate the number of five million 12-19 year olds who have compromised hearing thresholds, according to Dangerous Decibels–a site which is full of tips on living with hearing loss and the risks of noise-induced hearing loss–the desensitization to environmental sounds that the map charts creates a landscape where even those without Noise-Induced Hearing Loss (NIHL) have a compromised relation to their environments.

But the map suggests the changing nature of outdoor hearing for most populations, compromised by the rise of background noise, and the deep penetration of what used to be considered urban sounds of mechanized movements across much of the country.

USA sound map in decibels

Reading the stark topography of sound levels across the lower forty-eight, one is indeed almost instinctively tempted to run into its scattered pockets of deepest blues:  these seem the safest areas of respite, as one shrinks from the bright incandescent yellows of even a tolerable amount of ever-present background noise–maybe not to the deserts of southwest Texas, but if not to the national parks bordering California, in the Cascades, the Colorado Plateau, Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming, Dinosaur National Monument between Colorado and Utah, and in the Great Basin.  (It’s perhaps not a coincidence that some of these ecosystems, many home to Native Americans, were to be preserved “from injury or spoliation” by the National Parks, preserved thanks to Carl Shurz, David Brower and Howard Zahniser.  Is the aural intrusion not a deep form of injury?)

One might as well get out a paper map of the greenspace in parks to correlate them with the deep blue lakes of silence .  . .

 

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It is almost difficult to imagine the experience of those deep blue areas of silence today.

The expansive chromolithographies of Thomas Moran depict deeply hidden, inner resources of nature in sites such as the future Yellowstone or Zion Park, preserved from industrializing life of in ways that raised interest in the hidden landscapes of the United States, after he had accompanied Ferdinand V. Hayden on the 1871 Geographic Survey of the Territories, in ways that created one of the first romantic images to produce a popular movement for the protection of a landscape as undisturbed.  One is struck in Moran’s monumental landscapes by how these awesome environments dwarf their  human visitors, arriving in what seem uninhabited lands, far from the noise of railroads or cities in the industrializing United States:

 

 

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Thomas Moran, “The Valley of the Babbling Waters, Southern Utah” (1873) 18.71.14

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Thomas Moran, “Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone” (1875) 18.71.8

 

 

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These are the ideals of We now look at the romance of arriving at deep blue spots in the algorithmically generated soundscape, far removed from Moran’s monumental renderings of geographical formations that first communicated a sense of the natural majesty of the western United States to a large audience of viewers that communicated the wonder of a landscape he saw as both untouched and pristine, in contrast to the ever-present ambient noise that seems not only inescapable in remote regions of Oregon’s Crater Lake National Park but all but inescapable in much of the U.S.

But the levels of noise pollution that illuminate or almost incandescently light much of the country marks the encroaching of an auditory anthropocene from which there will be no turning back, and which has already altered the landscape as well as soundscape of the country.  The spatial collation of audio registrations finds most people live in environments “where night skies and soundscapes are profoundly degraded, Fristrup notes, describing the extent of both sound and noise “pollution” as almost spanning the continent, where median background noise plagues most, out of a desire to “conserve natural sensory environments for future generations” registers his deep and abiding sense of loss and the inevitability of a landscape of increasing auditory degradation that could bring a generation of “learned deafness” destined to dull one to the very soundscapes National Parks seek to conserve–and the notion of such environmentally provoked desensitization to sound seems backed by the datum that some 10 million people in the United States were judged, in 1999, to have permanent hearing loss from noise or trauma.  Are we becoming increasingly hard of hearing or deaf, or in danger of slowly losing a sense by which humans have long interacted with the world and gave meaning to it?

The argument has had special resonance–no pun intended.  The map that was quickly shared upwards of 10.9 K times record penetration of high decibel levels (above 40) across much of the country’s inhabited land–and the rarity of those deep blue chasms that seem to almost fall through the map.  Although the idea that they record the sound environment of the country before Columbus is doubtful, and not only because of the folly of thinking that it was not inhabited before 1492, the absence of industrial ambient background noise over a level of forty decibels is no doubt a pretty modern creation–though anthropocentric presumptions that the noise be generated by humans, rather than animals–stampedes of buffaloes?–seems more unwarranted.  But the map based on measurements of midsummer decibel levels is a unique map of how we inhabit the land, and a nice record of what we might mean now by the “inhabited world”–or ecumene.  It is a record, perhaps, of how we have chosen to inhabit space, and the ways that we have chosen to inhabit it–the landscape scarred with sound bizarrely analogous to the barren scored and spotted pock-marked lunar landscape, and the connotations of un-inhabitability it inescapably provokes in evoking this surface without life.

 

 

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The sterile landscape of the moon is an odd choice of comparison.  The worry that we may be facing the rise of a “deaf generation,” unable to hear the world as men and women once perceived natural sounds, due the growing decibel levels of constant noise in larger cities, and not be able to hear or register the natural sounds in cities, and even National Parks, has led Fristrup to worry about the threats and healthiness due to increases in ambient noise and wonder if future generations might not even appreciate the sounds of nature in cities or National Parks.  If such fears seem alarmist, they are reflected in the deep attraction most observers will have to the deep blue identified with tranquility–and with restfulness or even curl health–an association according with the profound healthful benefits of silence.

Fears of a growing disconnect with aural experiences makes the strong similarity between the scoring of the national soundscape and the lunar landscape somehow appropriate.  For the scientific synesthesia that results suggests how we’ve filled the continent with sound, from jack hammers to jet airplanes to trucks to power mowers to daily traffic to sanitation trucks to bird-calls.  The sonic landscape closely corresponds to the expansion of manmade environments across the continent, and ignore the level of noise that was made by earlier inhabitants.  The measurement of strong levels of sound pollution claims to screen out the traffic of nearby automobiles, but is appears to echo the very network pattern of freeways and highways that traverse the country and link cities with one another, and were no doubt privileged sites of measurement; where few or no roads exist, it seems that regions of deep blue must perforce prevail–or at least that the grids provide a basis to generate noise:  grids of streets even appear in the noise map, much as the splotches of bright yellow mark cities and sprawling urban areas that have made silence almost inaccessible for large shares of the nation’s populations without considerable geographic mobility, and moved all landscapes of deep silence far west, removed from traffic’s perpetual hum.

 

 

 

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 Wikipedia

 

Only in 1970, of course, considerably more open spaces existed across the United States, if one focuses on Interstates alone across the western states:

 

 

 

The apparent density of noise may indeed be partly explained by the density of the network of highways that course across the Eastern seaboard and much of the midwest.

 

 

What might be called the “noisier half” of the United States shows an area of almost continuous noise pollution, where the “auditory horizons” have markedly shrunk in most places to but a few blocks of paved space–

 

 

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reflects the very same region where highways define a distinctly different relation to expanse:

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The expansion of the National Highway System across the nation is perhaps best rendered by a hand-drawn map that tries to project its future and the compromising of place that it implies, with an eye to the shrinking of the auditory human experience of place:

 

 

A Highway Map of the USA

 

 

 

For the congestion of noise, roads, and urban areas reveals an image of how we inhabit continental expanse.  We might compare the division of the country, grosso modo, to the imbalance in the density with which McDonald’s restaurants are spread across the contiguous United States, shown here by illuminated dots that reveal the proximity of fast food restaurants across the land, sometimes suggesting strikingly similar highway paths, and no doubt mirror population trends, and indeed the density of businesses:

 

 

 

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Stephen Von Worley 

 

Does space tend to collapse in interesting ways once one is less able to sense sounds?  Such levels of noise pollution offer a sonorous residue or acoustic remainder of how we have come to inhabit the world’s environment and to remake it, and register the arrival an auditory anthropocene which earlier maps have often been hard-pressed to detect.

As much as being confined to the United States, the prospect of such elevated decibel levels in areas of dense population and the modern humming of transportation networks across the country find a parallel in the noises of the global traffic networks we have created in the seas.  Indeed, the oceans seem increasingly characterized by constant presence of such noise recalls the “background hum” of oceanic shipping lanes that resounds across the oceans, by modeling a global soundscape seeks mapping the range of sounds ships create in transatlantic voyages, that seem the material reminder of the increased intensity of a global network of shipping lanes.  Such sound levels, to be sure, often obscure the cresting of waves, with the upshot of radically compromising the auditory experience of the ocean for its inhabitants–especially imperiling animals that use sounds to communicate, cetaceans from whales to dolphins, in ways that may mislead the sonar skills they have evolved to map their own courses underwater, in ways that create more than auditory interference with how they experience space.  And with noise traveling some 4.3 faster in the watery medium than in air–and traveling at an unchanging intensity over considerable distances–the gigantic impact of large-cargo vessels that generate more noise than we would often permit onshore from constantly running diesel engines creates considerable ambient noise to which different marine creatures are especially vulnerable.

A map of the auditory intrusions of passenger vessels alone that was recorded and released by NOAA based on anthropogenic noise of cruise vessels alone suggest a shifting in the oceanic environment:

 

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Yet the spectrum of noise from the chronic levels of noise modeled from larger commercial vessels was far more chronic:

 

 

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And when summed, the picture that results is of a radically sonically altered and disrupted environment, apparently in ignorance of the disturbances that they create for actual (or any) ocean populations:

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The map below registers sounds that extend to a depth of 650 feet in a similar color spectrum map–which doesn’t include either seismic exploration or Navy sonar noise that add considerably to the range of ocean sounds that obscure today’s songs of humpback whales.  Indeed, if whales often base their communications over expanses of hundreds of miles through their song, whale space has undoubtedly against such background noise in a a sea with startlingly few areas absent from auditory interference.  Such changes would not only affect the cetacean populations of marine mammals as they navigate underwater transit–if von Uexküll suggests that whales are attuned to other worlds, it might be important to contemplate what they make of the ships’ apparently unavoidable background sounds, or whether they accommodate to their presence.

 

 

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If one goes to 200 Hz, a slightly different picture of the local variations in background hums emerges:

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But what might be considered more broadly is the very difficulty of erasing the imprint that such ships that travel across the seas exercise over the entire marine environment. The sonorous surroundings characteristic of the oceans were earlier mapped at 400 Hz and a depth of fifty feet by NOAA in 2012, from passenger ships, commercial ships, to seismic surveys in an annual average, present a similarly pronounced offshore acoustic disturbances and an even more pronounced augmentation of background noise offshore, as if hidden from landlocked observation stations, as if ships’ engines are only started at full throttle after arriving in the open seas, where ship captains or automated pilots crank up their speeds and plow full speed ahead:

1211-sci-OCEANNOAA Underwater Mapping Sound Field Mapping Working Group/HLS Research/ NCEAS–Details of North Atlantic Shipping and local noises near Long Island–from the New York Times

 

 

The rumors of transatlantic voyages notwithstanding, it is somehow wonderful to move from the noisy oceans to their landlocked counterparts.

The deep blue sites of relative silence, often confined to the areas close to the coast, may indeed obscure the extent of noise we have created far out at sea, far from the increasingly noisy shore, where we cannot hear their hum.  The shifts in the national–as well as the global–soundscape makes one wonder whether, in obscuring some sounds or making other sounds inaudible, one is not changing perceptions of space in ways that the great majority of  data visualizations cannot register.  But both present us with digitized images of sound-levels so strikingly ever-present that we can almost hear them resonate across space.

Like the deepest blue spots on the sound map of the United States, they mark the rare areas of respite in an every-noisier world.

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Filed under anthropocene, environmental mapping, national parks, sound maps, Soundscapes