Rising Water

Embarcadero High Tide, mixed media photo collage on board, 14”x11”

When tourists visit San Francisco’s Ferry Building and wander around the Financial District, do they know that part of the City was once underwater?  Amidst the towers was once a busy harbor.  During the Gold Rush, crews that ran off to the Sierra Nevada abandoned their ships.  Those ships sank into the mudflats as wharves and docks grew around them.  Eventually the harbor was filled in and the coastline expanded out into the bay.  Imagine Justin Herman Plaza was once a tidal flat filling with seawater twice a day. While Time Travel Photos are about both the past and the present, this one might also be about the future as sea levels rise.

The new series of Time Travel Photos will be presented in a new exhibit at San Francisco’s Glama-Rama Salon and Gallery.  The show runs from October 11 to November 27, 2016 with an opening reception on the evening of Saturday, October 15 at 7:30 pm.

An American Village Is Being Abandoned Because of Rising Seas

For the Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Native Americans who live in coastal Louisiana, climate change is a very harsh reality. They are fleeing their island reservation because of rising water levels.

The group has called the Isle de Jean Charles home for a century, but are now moving inland with the help in federal assistance. Over the last 60 years, the group has lost 98 percent of its land to coastal flooding, erosion, and other effects of rising sea levels. The entire population is now packed into an area less than a square mile. read more here

This quote hits the nail on the head:

Image credit: Karen Apricot, via Flickr

Vote of a Lifetime: Alaskan Town Decides Whether to Stay or Go in Face of Climate Change
The residents of Shishmaref, a barrier island in western Alaska, will determine the future of their beloved town on August 16.

Nine villages, mostly in western Alaska, have been identified by the Army Corps of Engineers to be at imminent risk because of erosion and rising seas, according to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD).

All have been recommended to relocate.

Between 200 and 300 villages will be at similar risk in the coming decades, according to the Corps.

The native village of Newtok, 370 miles south of Shishmaref, is the first to have agreed to move to a new location. The move will be funded by state and federal funds, according to Maria Gonoa, a spokesperson for HUD. A complete overwash of Newtok is predicted to hit as early as next year, Gonoa added.

As threatening as the climate impacts are, the cultural impact of leaving the village was also hard to think about, Eningowuk said.

“At my age, I hope to not relocate from here,” Eningowuk said.

Eningowuk said their lifestyle—dependent on the sea—would have to change if they went to the mainland.

Extinct smallpox virus could be resurrected by global warming
Melting permafrost threatens to exhume a smallpox graveyard in Siberia, and it could be a sign of what's to come.

Hear that, you stupid, money-grubbing Deniers?

And here we thought all we had to worry about was rising sea levels. [ GOP:  Oh well, don’t live by the seashore, losers! ]  How about a little Anthrax with a side of Small Pox?

Wish the illnesses could be confined to the oil execs and the politicians who sleep with them.

There is no friend as loyal as a book. - Ernest Hemingway

Our oceans aren’t just rising - they’re accelerating, and that’s even worse
It's been hidden from us for 25 years.
By Bec Crew

It’s news to no one that our sea levels are rising as a result of global warming, but scientists have finally confirmed something even more worrying - rate at which they’re rising is actually accelerating.

And what’s truly crazy about this situation is it’s been masked from us for more than two decades, thanks to a massive, poorly timed volcanic eruption. Thanks, nature.

On 15 June 1991, Earth sustained the second-largest volcanic eruption of the century - Mount Pinatubo, in the Philippines.

Read more… 

Blue lakes are appearing in Antarctica – and that’s a bad thing

In a new study, scientists who study the largest ice mass on Earth – East Antarctica – have found that it is showing a surprising feature reminiscent of the fastest melting one: Greenland. More specifically, the satellite-based study found that atop the coastal Langhovde Glacier in East Antarctica’s Dronning Maud Land, large numbers of “supraglacial” or meltwater lakes have been forming – nearly 8,000 of them during summer months between the year 2000 and 2013. Moreover, in some cases, just as in Greenland, these lakes appear to have then been draining down into the floating parts of the glacier, potentially weakening it and making it more likely to fracture and break apart.

A short political aside to the flooding in Louisiana.

Hyperbolic scare tactics in journalism wear my nerves out a little, but in some instances, I’m fine with it.  When we’re discussing rising sea levels and climate change, I’m fine with it.  As such, I’m fine with how Business Insider took an article from Matter and chopped it down to it’s most frightening presentation.

Government and business do not want to listen to warnings about rising water levels.  The people continue to vote for a party that rejects climate change.  And now Louisiana is having the worst natural disaster since Hurricane Sandy.

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See this National Geographic map? If all ice on land melted, the sea level would rise 216 feet (an absolutely insane rise) and this would be our new coastline in about 5,000 years. BIG FUCKING DEAL. I SERIOUSLY CANNOT THINK OF A MORE INCONSEQUENTIAL ISSUE. We will face soooo many problems within the next 5,000 years (think, America is less than 300 years old) that threaten civilization that this flooding of the coast just seems like a joke. Worried about Florida? What the fuck is Florida in year 7,014? I see a lot of attention being drawn to this rise in sea level issue to scare people (I mean, this NatGeo map is as outlandish as it gets) as if it’s a central issue to climate change but it really just makes people discount all of climate change if we always focus on the rising sea level and people realize that it’s nbd.

River Flows in You

Three dragon!Tobirama drabbles to go with @redhothollyberries’s gorgeous piece of art here!

In Fire Country, there is no time beyond the constant war. There is no force but chakra, no spirit but what drives a shinobi to fight, and the Senju have long since abandoned silly superstitions like leaving offerings that might be better used to fill a soldier’s belly.

Senju Yuuko was once Uzumaki Yuuko, though, and she remembers dragons rising from the sea, gold and gleaming in the sunlight as they left Uzushio’s whirlpools behind them. She was a little girl then, easily awed, but her mother had rested her hands on Yuuko’s shoulders and whispered, “Never forget.”

Years and miles from being that little girl, wed with three strong sons, Yuuko still hasn’t forgotten. She sets aside her own rice, her own sake, and carries it to the river near the Senju Clan compound every day. The Nakano is a peaceful river, wide and meandering with few deadly currents, and she likes to think that the spirit who lives there is equally benevolent. It would be nice if something was, here in this war-torn land.

Her offerings are always taken, and even if her hard, impatient husband scoffs at her and blames it on foxes and birds, Yuuko knows. She pities him, because he doesn’t, because he has never seen the dragons in the sea and known that there was something greater than just himself. But she does, and the absence of sake, of rice, of good green tea and sweet bean buns, always makes her smile.

That’s why, when she learns she’s ill, that a wound earned defending her adopted clan has left poison in her blood, the river spirit is her first thought.

Not for herself—Yuuko was raised on words of caution about bargains with spirits for selfish reasons, cautionary tales that never ended well for those involved. She’s lived, and she will die, and there’s no more to be had. This is her lot. But her children are innocent, young. They don’t deserve the death that will doubtless find them quickly in a shinobi’s life.

On a clear, cool morning, with the mist still hanging like a tattered veil across the land, Yuuko sets her offerings out on the riverbank and waits, kneeling in the wet grass in her best kimono. Birdsong echoes, then falls silent, and the river dances over the rocks in the shallows. She keeps her eyes on the water, watching, waiting.

Finally, it stirs. A pale shape rises from depths that should be too shallow to hold it, shimmering silver and white traced through with striking red. The sinuous body slides from the riverbed to curl on the bank before her, and the dragon-god of the Nakano looks first to her offerings and then to her.

“I would make a bargain,” Yuuko tells him, meeting ancient crimson eyes with all the steadiness she can gather into her soul. “For the protection of my children when I am gone.”

The dragon doesn’t speak, just watches her for long moments that stretch out in the cool morning. Then, careful and regal, he inclines his head, great neck bending as he reaches down. Red whiskers touch her long black hair where it’s laid out around her, acceptance and agreement in one motion, and blue light gathers around him like a sweep of moving water. Silver scales become pale skin, white mane recedes to white hair, red whiskers turn to crimson markings, and a little human boy of no more than four years opens his red eyes to regard her solemnly.

“Thank you for your offerings,” he tells her, this river god in the body of a child. “I will guard your sons as best I can.”

No god can protect against everything, or be everywhere, but like this, maybe at least one of her sons will have a chance. “Thank you,” she whispers, and reaches out, and he allows her to gather him up in her arms and clutch him close. “Thank you.”

When she carries him home, no one in the clan sees anything strange. They smile, comment on how Tobirama has grown, how handsome he’ll be, just like her other sons, and Yuuko smiles back, secretive and sly, and thanks them for their kindness.

The dragon-child in her arms just watches, silent and solemn with the wisdom of an age-old river in his eyes, and Yuuko wonders how, even hidden with a spirit’s spell, no one else can see it.

He is the god of the Nakano, carved deep into its bed from centuries of steady flow, but he is not omniscient. Kawarama and Itama both die too far from the river’s banks for him to reach them, and for the first time in his very long life, Tobirama knows helplessness.

They bury Itama while the earth is still bare and raw over Kawarama’s grave, and Tobirama stands beside the boy who is his brother in every way that matters, staring at the small grave. He had felt the boy die, had known when his spirit flickered and faded into death, and it feels like a betrayal of the woman who acted as his mother. The woman who was the first mortal in many, many decades to leave an offering on his banks, to ask a boon, to offer payment for his regard. She had not been desperate even though she was dying, and her poise and daring intrigued him.

Her last remaining son shares many of her virtues, and maybe that’s part of the reason Tobirama has come to love Hashirama the way he does.

When the last of the mourners leave, the forest is silent except for the distant calls of birds and the quiet hitches of Hashirama’s breath as he cries. Tobirama reaches for him, curls a hand around his wet cheek and presses his fingers over Hashirama’s where he’s trying to hide his tears, but this body is too small, too weak. He can’t comfort his brother like this.

Hashirama knows what he is, or at least suspects. The Uzumaki blood is strong in him, close to the surface, and Tobirama can sense the touch of a nature spirit in his chakra, like the bite of fresh sap in the open air and the green of new leaves in spring. The charm Tobirama laid on the Senju Clan to twist their memories has always slid off Hashirama’s skin like raindrops on glass, but he’s never asked Tobirama directly about his presence. Here and now, Tobirama hopes that it won’t frighten him or drive him away, but he can’t leave things as they are.

This human form is awkward even after eight years wearing it. As a dragon, as himself, he’s far more capable of offering a moment’s comfort.

The sweep of blue light illuminating the forest pulls Hashirama from his grief. His head snaps up, eyes widening, and he whispers, “Tobirama?” in confusion, but he doesn’t back away.

Tobirama meets his eyes, level and reassuring, for half a moment before the full change takes him, and answers, “It’s all right, brother.”

The light flickers, fades. Hashirama’s eyes are wide, full of wonder even as tears trickle down his cheeks. He stares for a moment, then reaches out, and Tobirama dips his head, brushing small, callused fingers with his long whiskers. Hashirama’s face twists up, more tears breaking free, and with a muffled sob he throws himself forward, clutching at silver-scaled shoulders.

Letting out a quiet huff, Tobirama curves his long neck around, surrounding Hashirama as best he can. He closes his eyes, letting his own grief fill him as Hashirama cries quietly, no Butsuma here to reprimand him for the show of emotion. There’s grief in Tobirama as well, deep and dark like a forgotten well, and he thinks of warm, kind, cheerful Itama, so desperate for a world at peace, and mourns.

It won’t happen again. Tobirama swears that to himself. Hashirama at least will survive, even if Tobirama has to permanently shed his human skin to see to it.

Not only for the Lady Yuuko. Not only for a promise made on a riverbank, or offerings left where other mortals had long forgotten. For the sake of a boy with a forest in his soul, a kindness Tobirama can hardly fathom. For Hashirama, who dreams of peace and happiness, and stands apart because of it.

Tobirama is the god of the Nakano, set in his ways. But eight years as a brother to a human boy with the sun in his smile and that’s no longer all he is, or all he can be. Like a new path carved into the earth, he’s growing in small ways, in streamlets and shifting banks and calm shallows where rapids once flowed.

Change is natural in a river’s course. Tobirama wonders when he forgot that. Wonders when, exactly, Hashirama was able to remind him.

Hashirama meets a boy on the banks of the Nakano, a boy with wild black hair and sharp black eyes and dreams of peace to match his own.

There are eyes on them, he knows, but doesn’t mention it to Madara. Smiles, and laughs, and hopes his little brother sees that there’s a chance for strangers to meet and become friends, because Hashirama worries for Tobirama. He seems lonely sometimes, ancient and aged and so separate from the rest of the world with his cleverness and sharp tongue and watchful red eyes.

But Madara can be a friend, is a friend to Hashirama, and maybe he can be one to Tobirama as well.

Madara waves as he leaves, running swiftly back into the trees, and Hashirama waves back, grinning after him.

When he turns, it’s little surprise at all to find a young boy with white hair seated on the bank beside him, watching the retreating figure with some strange assessment in his gaze.

“I like him,” Hashirama says, not quite stubbornly, but with the warning that he can be. “We’re going to be friends.”

Tobirama glances sidelong at him, the faint edges of a smirk on his lips. He scoops up a handful of jagged rocks from the bank and cradles them in his hands for a moment, then tips them out at Hashirama’s feet. They spill over his sandals, no longer jagged but smooth and worn to perfect roundness.

“You don’t even know his clan name,” Tobirama says, as though the stones aren’t already his answer, as though he can’t see Hashirama’s spreading grin.

Hashirama ignores the grumbled words, lunging forward. He trips over his own feet, stumbles, and when Tobirama rises to catch him with a startled expression, Hashirama snatches up his little brother in a tight hug.

“I love you, Tobirama,” he whispers into soft white hair.

There’s a pause, a quiet huff. Small arms wrap around him in return, and Tobirama hugs him back.

Seas aren’t just rising, scientists say — it’s worse than that. They’re speeding up.
Scientists say that once they correct for the cooling effect of 1991's Mount Pinatubo eruption, sea level rise is accelerating.
By https://www.facebook.com/chriscmooney

Predictions suggest that seas should not only rise, but that the rise should accelerate, meaning that the annual rate of rise should itself increase over time. That’s because the great ice sheets, Greenland and Antarctica, should lose more and more mass, and the heat in the ocean should also increase.

He is large and strong, especially after he got hired? by the pirates. Don’t let looks fool you though, he is 100% a gigantic dweeb

Feel free to smooch, though whether you want to do that before or after he finishes sacrificing people to his ancient book of eldritch horror is your call.

Humanity is facing a challenge unlike any we’ve ever had to confront. We are in an unprecedented period of change- scientists from all over the globe have been saying this for decades but still there is divide in public opinion on climate change. People say things like “There is no evidence” or “Scientists don’t agree it’s caused by humans” and at this stage in climatological research, we can safely put those two notions to bed. Say goodnight.

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