Acres Australia

Understand­ing weather moderation

- - Hugh Lovel

“Prediction is difficult, especially the future.” - Niels Bohr

AT the turn of the nineteenth century, French mathematic­ian and astronomer, Pierre- Simon La Place (1749–1827) proposed that if we only knew the starting point and the mathematic­al formulae we could predict all things from our present circumstan­ce into a distant future.

Combined with Emmanuel Kant’s (1724–1804) belief that we can only know things via the five senses, the Kant/La Place cosmology became the most widely accepted world view of the 20th century.

But things started changing with mathematic­ian and meteorolog­ist Edward Lorenz’s discovery in the early sixties of the ‘strange attractor’ and the ‘butterfly effect’.

These ideas gave rise to chaos theory, whose non-linear explanatio­ns laid La Place’s notions of predictabi­lity to rest. At the same time Alan Turing (1912–1954), the mathematic­ian whose insights deciphered the

Nazi Wehrmacht’s Enigma Code, applied non-linear mathematic­s to problems of complexity and bio-chemical morphogene­sis and the fact that living organisms not only run down and disperse, but they also run up in a process Buckminste­r Fuller (1895–1983), called syntropy. In short, chaos theory showed that life consistent­ly arises on the borders of chaos.

Lorenz found that tiny changes, much like a butterfly beating its wings, could produce profound changes downstream. He also found that weather systems self-corrected around unknown anchor points that held the patterns in place even though such ‘strange attractors’ were difficult to pin down.

Small wonder that chaos theory emerged from the mathematic­s of weather and biochemist­ry. Weather itself exhibits many of the characteri­stics of living organisms.

The trend in 20th century science was to limit variables by taking things apart and studying their pieces, while scientists who studied complex variables as systems were relegated to the fringes and, in many cases, ridiculed. Lorenz and Turing, however, studied whole systems where variabilit­y was unavoidabl­e and profound. Ultimately complexity won and Chaos Theory, a new branch of physics, was born.

Science is a process of exploring the boundaries of what we know in order to discover new things. Even though old ideas die hard, science is always on the cusp of change. The old, over- simplified reductioni­sm of the 20th century is gradually giving way a new quantum age where more and more scientists deal with complexity on the order of Avogadro’s number1.

Chaos

Chaos is defined as “a state of utter confusion or disorder; a total lack of organizati­on or order”. However, Chaos Theory accepts that out of apparent chaos highly ordered behavior can arise from seemingly hidden causes. Also, due to equally obscure factors, the existing patterns of order may return to what appears to be chaos.

For example, writer Michael Crichton points out not only is the origin of dinosaurs obscure, but whatever caused their sudden demise is similarly hidden. All we have is theories.

Just consider the nineteenth century assumption of the inevitabil­ity of entropy, otherwise known as the second law of thermodyna­mics. This assumption works really well to explain what happens in lifeless systems like machines or dead bodies. But it fails to explain how chaos flows toward order in living systems.

What is missing is life. As Nobel Prize winning physicist Erwin Schrödinge­r (1887–1961) pointed out, “Living organisms have the remarkable ability to draw a stream of order to themselves.” Life is dynamic. a process the source of which seems transcende­ntal as we can graph the process but we cannot point to its causes. Life arises out of time and likewise it subsides, even though within a given life- span its expression of order can be profound.

Chaos Theory seeks to identify variables in dynamic systems whose behavior gives rise to order. Examples abound from biological processes and natural ecologies to weather systems.

The butterfly effect

Arguably the most important scientific discovery of the 20th century was Lorenz’s discovery that weather systems oscillate in self-organising patterns on the borders of chaos, subject to shifting with even the tiniest change.

A butterfly in Brazil may, by flapping its wings, cause the Mississipp­i River to flood. This discovery marked the point where science awakened from La Place’s dream that if one knew the mathematic­al formulas and had enough data the entire course of the universe could be computed. Here was reason to believe we humans can and do exercise free choice and the choices we make matter.

The butterfly analogy was a picturesqu­e metaphor that may have been inspired by plotting the points arising from Lorenz’s weather prediction program. From some points of view this graph looked rather like a butterfly, lending romance to Osborne Reynolds’ (1842–1912) fluid dynamical dictum that a microscopi­c change at a point can effect large scale changes in the medium. Even though weather cycles show strong evidence of being self-correcting, they apparently oscillate between certain extremes, and fine nudges can alter what happens downstream within these extremes.

El Niño/La Niña

Warmth drives the world’s weather, and the Pacific Ocean, the world’s largest body of water, is the largest source of warm, moist evaporatio­n. Thus weather scientists have long studied the irregular but periodic shift of warmth between the eastern and the western Pacific Ocean known as the Southern Oscillatio­n or the El Niño/La Niña cycle.

With El Niño the eastern Pacific becomes noticeably warmer off the coast of South America, generally around Christmas. This maximizes evaporatio­n and the resulting rising moisture climbs the steep slopes of the Andes Mountains, loading the upper atmosphere with moisture. Easily the world’s longest mountain chain, the Andes runs north to south straddling the equator and is second only to the Himalayas in height.

In the region of Ecuador and Peru the lower atmosphere where weather happens - called the tropospher­e - swells to almost 15 km above sea level to the tropopause where the lower atmosphere meets the stratosphe­re. The moisture

rich evaporatio­n of an El Niño means more moisture reaches higher altitudes before cooling and sliding off poleward down a gradient called a thermo cline toward the polar vortexes where the tropospher­e is only about 7km high.

At the poles what was warm near the equator has cooled prior to falling down the polar vortex and recirculat­ing toward the equator via storms. Paradoxica­lly more and harsher winter storms are just as much a sign of global warming as more and stronger summer cyclones, since both summer and winter storms are driven by warmth.

While El Niño means more precipitat­ion nearer the poles, it also means droughts for large parts of the world, including most of Australia. Of course, an El Niño can only go on so long before the increased evaporatio­n brings in enough cold currents in the lower ocean to cool things off and shift the balance of warmth back across the Pacific.

On the other hand, La Niña is a condition of elevated warmth in the western Pacific. Interestin­gly, not all the moisture that evaporates from equatorial oceans rises into the upper atmosphere to fall down the polar vortexes. Depending on various seed factors - which chaos theory seeks to identify - summer evaporatio­n from equatorial waters can drive summer storm cycles in the lower tropospher­e. These are called monsoons, and they drop most of their moisture in summer. When a La Niña feeds moisture into the lower atmosphere of the western Pacific there is no wall of high mountains in the west to lift evaporatio­n into the higher regions. La Niñas drive global rain cycles. This is especially important for Australia as ordinarily the Australian mid-continent is arid and hot, which drives moisture upward so that little rain results. A La Niña means an especially rich river of warm, moist air flows out of the Indian Ocean (the world’s warmest ocean) and western Indonesia across Australia, from northwest to southeast and this is known to bring rain.

Global warming

Taken as a whole, world weather oscillates in a remarkably self-correcting pattern where warmth, light, tone and lifeforms are the organizati­onal factors. Though the jury is out on how long and how much global weather can correct itself, it seems that in recent times there has been a global warming trend and weather has become more extreme.

This is more apparent in brittle environmen­ts like Australia and South Africa as compared to Europe or North America. Global warming is clearly occurring in the polar regions of the northern hemisphere where vast areas of permafrost have thawed. But lest we forget, the slight elevation of temperatur­e in our equatorial oceans results in far more evaporatio­n, which down the track means increasing­ly extreme flooding.

Global warming increases evaporatio­n, accelerate­s the thermo cline and ramps up world weather because of the increase of moisture in the atmosphere. Though initially chaos sends moisture aloft, because of the organizing effects of warmth, light, tone and life, weather systems show a high degree of organizati­on, dropping more moisture on well-vegetated, carbon rich regions and less on sandy deserts or bare soils.

While some environmen­talists forecast global warming will increase desertific­ation, the inverse seems true. Greater and greater desertific­ation is bringing about global warming. Greater desertific­ation means we are losing the ability to lock up sunshine and store it in the biosphere as soil carbon, forests and green fields.

The spread of deserts arguably is caused by human activities, but deserts do not spread because of warmth. Warmth, from the global viewpoint, means more water enters the atmosphere in a chaotic state giving rise to stronger organizati­on, more and bigger storms and increased rainfall. Global warming means more water enters the atmosphere as evaporatio­n, and what goes up must come down.

For whatever reasons whether conceptual, political or economic, fossil fuels and CO2 emissions get most of the blame for global warming. Yet, this may be an illfounded belief. Forest clearing, overgrazin­g, strip mining,

urbanizati­on, desertific­ation and destructio­n of ocean ecologies have markedly reduced vegetation and increased barren surfaces. Earth’s capacity to store sunlight by carbon capture is failing. We cannot continue to strip the landscape bare by overgrazin­g, cultivatio­n, summer dry fallow, mono-cropping and consuming humus with nitrogen fertilizer. These practices all ensure that more and more rain falls in fewer and fewer places - and when it does there is less and less to keep it from running off as a flood. Australia is already a land of droughts and floods.

The Australian picture

Several thousand years ago the Australian interior was lush and green summer monsoons were the norm throughout the mid-continent. However, this gradually dried up as the seed factors related to moisture and organic matter declined. Over the last several thousand years the use of fire in environmen­tal management made the interior of the continent progressiv­ely drier. Today central Australia often records the highest summer temperatur­es in the Southern Hemisphere. This means that even as the huge evaporativ­e column of moisture coming off the Indian Ocean slides southeaste­rly down the thermo cline across Australia it usually is kept aloft by rising warmth and light acting as a radiator. Anything that reduces the carbon capture potential of vegetation increases the radiator effect, which tends to result in prolonged droughts.

Of course what sustains the rain forests of Far Northern Queensland and coastal New South Wales are trade winds that bring in storms along the Great Dividing Range. Usually, however, these hardly have enough strength to reach the interior to join up with weather systems out of the northwest or winter storms out of the Bight.

However, in the 2010 northern summer, July and August, the storm cycles of the northern Indian Ocean monsoon were particular­ly intense in the lower atmosphere, dropping huge quantities of moisture as rainfall along the Indus River and in the eastern Hindu Kush. The result was massive flooding in Pakistan and eastern Afghanista­n while Russia experience­d drought and extensive forest fires. This recycled warm surface water to the Indian Ocean while suppressin­g the influx of colder Antarctic currents, yielding record high ocean temperatur­es.

What followed was the combinatio­n of evaporatio­n off the Indian Ocean with a La Niña in the western Pacific. Ordinarily Australia’s mid-continenta­l area is arid and hot, driving moisture upward so that little rain results. However, since the river of evaporatio­n flowing across Australia was so abundant the result was an extremely wet monsoon across the outback.

Australian weather

Periodical­ly, central Australia catches a La Niña summer where flooding occurs not only along rivers flowing into the Pacific and the Murray/Darling but also over the outback and the Lake Eyre Basin, which in some places is below sea level.

In the southern summer of 2009-2010 Australia had two cyclones sweep down out of the top end into the interior dropping enough moisture out of the northwest, in Queensland and Northern New South Wales to reach all the way down to Lake Eyre and relieve an extended drought. This combined with stronger, moister winter storm systems from the Bight which collided with systems out of the Gulf of Carpentari­a and the Indian Ocean and danced a lazy waltz back and forth across the outback delivering refreshing winter rains. The result was widespread greening and cooling over the Australian interior as spring returned. The evaporatio­n from this green, cool spring combined with the intensific­ation of evaporatio­n out of the warmer- than-usual Indian Ocean bringing one cycle of rain after another into the interior, and by Christmas this was causing massive floods on rivers draining into the Pacific, into the Murray/Darling and into Lake Eyre. When Lake Eyre fills up the evaporatio­n drives summer thundersto­rms in the mid-continent for a few years afterwards - which meant some good years for the Outback and in the Riverina.

Blame looks backward

There is a persistent mentality of whinging and blame, looking for a scapegoat for what is a natural, global phenomenon, the La Niña/El Niño cycle or southern oscillatio­n. Some say the cause of recent floods was HAARP (High-frequency Active Auroral Research Project), or secret weapon research combined with chemtrails. Another story is that someone without caution was playing with Reich Cloudbuste­rs. There’s even the theory that the US Navy’s nuclear arsenal at Diego Garcia, along with thousands of tons of depleted Uranium 238 used in armor piercing explosives in Iraq and Afghanista­n, has disturbed the ethers. While such things may well affect local weather, blame points to helplessne­ss and these things should be questioned as causes of floods or droughts. Global weather is a massive self-correcting system and Australia has alternated between droughts and floods for many thousands of years. I like to look for what I can do to moderate these weather cycles, and re-vegetating the earth is a good place to start.

What can be done

Though I’m not in politics, I find the blame game selfdefeat­ing, and – Hello - we have to deal with this effectivel­y regardless of what government­s and industries do. Let’s keep in mind that central Australia has been drying out for thousands of years, during which vegetation has become more and more sparse. As mentioned earlier, when we do get rain in parched areas the result is flooding because of so little vegetation there isn’t much to slow down run-off

and charge aquifers when it occurs. This can be remedied. The spread of deserts means even light rains become floods. From an environmen­tal point of view to reverse desertific­ation we need to slow down, absorb, conserve and ensure the steady flow of whatever water falls.

I’m greatly impressed by the insight and understand­ing of Peter Andrews in restoring vegetation, slowing down run-off and rehydratin­g the Australian landscape.

The Land Restoratio­n Imperative spearheade­d by former Governor- General, Michael Jeffrey, brought together in October 2009 a wide spectrum of talent from all across Australia to get behind Peter’s environmen­tal restoratio­n insights - which are a key part of any program to restore the Australian environmen­t to the far wetter conditions that once prevailed. Of course, everyone who attended had a different piece of the puzzle, and somehow Peter wasn’t quite the poster boy everyone wanted a photo with.

Neverthele­ss, the idea of a national initiative along our creeks and rivers and throughout our rough country to revegetate our landscape, slow down run-off and store water in our aquifers is a timely idea. The fact that the state of New South Wales has spent over 2.5 billion dollars to rip the willows out of our waterways and speed up run-off is a classic absurdity. Slowing down, spreading out and soaking up floods feeds their bounty to the landscape, which is something we should all participat­e in for future Australia.

This could then co-incide with Aboriginal legends of a time soon to come when Australia turns green. Mining turns renewable resources into non-renewable ones, but agricultur­e, Australia’s other economic engine, if rightly practiced, would pay its own way in reversing this trend.

Neverthele­ss, turning floods into opportunit­ies will require a national shift in consciousn­ess, which is what Chaos Theory is all about - identifyin­g those complex, almost undetectab­le factors that give rise to order.

As vegetation grows and cools the landscape, it catches carbon. As rural landscape architects we have our work cut out for us. ☐

Footnote:

Avogadro’s Number is the number of atoms in a gram atomic

[1] weight - which is the weight in grams of an element’s atomic weight. This number is 6.02 x 1023 or 602 sextillion­s atoms and could be written as 602,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. For example, boron’s gram atomic weight is 10 (atomic weight units). Since solubor

AWU is 20% boron, 50 grams of solubor will contain 10 grams of boron or an Avogadro’s number of boron atoms. If we had 50 milligrams of solubor this would contain 602 pentillion boron atoms. 50 nanograms - which would require magnificat­ion to see - would still be 602 trillion atoms, 50 picograms is 602 billion atoms and 50 femtograms is still huge at 602 million atoms. Attograms takes us to 602 thousand atoms and 60 zeptograms finally gives us 602 atoms of boron. Most folks are unfamiliar with imagining this.

 ??  ?? Peter Andrews’ work on Tony Coote’s section of Mulloon Creek, Bungendore, NSW, shows this creek running when other creeks in the area are dry, even in drought.
Peter Andrews’ work on Tony Coote’s section of Mulloon Creek, Bungendore, NSW, shows this creek running when other creeks in the area are dry, even in drought.
 ??  ?? Lorenz Attractor
Lorenz Attractor
 ??  ?? Mulloon Creek running on Tony Coote’s section at Bungendore, NSW.
Mulloon Creek running on Tony Coote’s section at Bungendore, NSW.

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