Farming – Organic Farming – Page 27

‘This stuff won’t go away’: PFAS chemicals contaminate Wisconsin’s waterways and soil

The Guardian

‘This stuff won’t go away’: PFAS chemicals contaminate Wisconsin’s waterways and soil

Tom Perkins October 22, 2021

Last year, residents in Campbell, Wisconsin, a four-square-mile island city in the Mississippi River, learned disturbing news: toxic PFAS “forever chemicals” used in firefighting foam at a neighboring airport had probably been contaminating their private wells for decades.

As state and local leaders search for a solution, residents now use bottled water for drinking, cooking and brushing their teeth. Yet the situation represents more than an enormous inconvenience. Some strongly suspect that the seemingly high rate of cancer, Crohn’s disease and other serious ailments that have plagued the island’s residents stem from the dangerous chemicals.

“It’s emotionally draining,” said Campbell town supervisor Lee Donahue. “People are angry that it happened, they’re angry that they had no control over it, and they’re angry that their well is contaminated for no fault of their own.”

Campbell isn’t alone. Across the US similar stories of water contaminated with PFAS are emerging.

PFAS, or per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, are a class of chemicals used across dozens of industries to make products water, stain and heat resistant. They’re called “forever chemicals” because they don’t naturally break down, and they persist in the environment and accumulate in humans’ and animals’ bodies. The compounds are linked to cancer, decreased immunity, thyroid problems, birth defects, kidney disease, liver problems and a range of other serious diseases.

Between July and October, officials in nearby Eau Claire in Wisconsin shut down half its 16 municipal wells over PFAS contamination, and across the state PFAS have poisoned drinking water supplies, surface water in lakes and streams, air, soil and wildlife like deer and fish that are eaten by the state’s residents.

As municipalities and residents wrestle with the water crisis, the state’s Republican-controlled legislature has killed legislation and blocked funding meant to address the problem, which is likely much larger than currently known: only about 2% of the state’s utilities have tested for the chemicals, and those that have check for no more than 30 of the approximately 9,000 PFAS compounds that exist.

“We’ve had difficulty just testing water to get a handle on the scale and scope of PFAS contamination,” said Scott Laesar, water program director with the Clean Wisconsin advocacy group. “We are asking for some really basic information about what’s in people’s water, and if we can’t even get that, then we’re in a difficult spot.”

Wisconsin’s troubles aren’t unique. States around the US are contending with similar difficulties, as increased testing has revealed that drinking water supplies for more than 100 million people are contaminated with PFAS, and the Environmental Protection Agency recently revealed 120,000 sites across the country that may expose people to the chemicals.

A sign warns anglers not to eat fish from the Huron River because of high levels of PFAS contamination. Photograph: Jim West/Alamy

The compounds’ ubiquity makes it difficult to determine sources of contamination, but Wisconsin airports and military bases that use PFAS-laden firefighting foam have often been identified as the culprit, including in Eau Claire, Madison, Milwaukee and Campbell.

The state’s combined groundwater standard for six types of PFAS is 20 parts per trillion (ppt), and the chemicals were detected at levels up to 70 ppt Eau Claire. Madison, a city of more than 250,000 and Wisconsin’s capital, found PFAS in all of its 16 drinking water wells in May 2020, but only at levels that exceeded health standards in one of them, which had been shut down months before.

Meanwhile, the lakes and streams around Madison are contaminated at startling levels. Officials have recorded counts for multiple compounds as high as 102,000 ppt, and levels in fish from nearby Lake Monona reached 180,000 ppt. Wisconsin department of natural resources signs posted along the region’s riverbanks warn residents against eating fish.

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Cities like Milwaukee that draw drinking water from Lake Michigan on the state’s east side face less of a threat because the chemicals are diluted by the large body of water, but many private well owners who aren’t connected to municipal systems have recorded dangerous levels.

In Marinette, just north of Green Bay along Lake Michigan, a massive 10-sq-mile PFAS plume grew from a firefighting foam testing ground owned by manufacturer Tyco Fire Products. The plume hasn’t contaminated the municipal system at high levels, but levels in nearby private wells have reached 254,000 ppt, and alderman Doug Oitzinger said rates of thyroid disease and testicular cancer in young men in the region are “off the charts”. The plume has contaminated the city’s sewage sludge, which now has to be shipped to a specialized facility in Oregon.

PFAS chemicals, including from firefighting foam, contaminates waterways throughout the US. Photograph: Jake May/AP

“This stuff is in the groundwater and won’t go away,” Oitzinger said.

Polluting the lake still has wider consequences. PFAS have been found in a range of Great Lakes fish, and the DNR issued an advisory to limit the consumption of rainbow smelt.

Though residents across the political spectrum are being exposed and PFAS legislation has had at least some bipartisan support, Wisconsin’s Republican leadership last session killed the Clear Act, which would have established drinking water standards and funded cleanup, among other measures. The bill is once again stalled in the Republican-controlled legislature. Democratic governor Tony Evers’ last budget proposed $22m for statewide PFAS testing and cleanup, but that money was stripped away. The state legislature is expected to kill new limits on PFAS being developed by the DNR.

In Campbell, town officials are demanding that the Federal Aviation Administration stop using firefighting foam with PFAS, as is now required by law, but the airport continues using it, town supervisor Donahue said. The city of La Crosse, which owns the airport, has sued PFAS manufacturers for allegedly hiding the foam’s danger.

The cleanup effort is also meeting resistance from an unlikely source – water utilities, which say they don’t have money to filter the chemicals. Meanwhile, one of the few actions taken by the DNR that would require testing and cleanup faces a legal challenge from the Wisconsin Manufacturers and Commerce trade group, which represents some of the state’s PFAS polluters. Should the case go to the state’s supreme court, it will be heard by a pro-business, Republican-controlled judge panel.

“We have an industry that would rather not know what’s out there and is engaged in a pretty cynical effort to maintain the status quo,” Laeser said. “This legislature has had numerous opportunities to invest in addressing PFAS and they have elected not to do so.”

Revealed: more than 120,000 US sites feared to handle harmful PFAS ‘forever’ chemicals

The Guardian

Revealed: more than 120,000 US sites feared to handle harmful PFAS ‘forever’ chemicals

Carey Gillam and Alvin Chang October 17, 2021

The US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has identified more than 120,000 locations around the US where people may be exposed to a class of toxic “forever chemicals” associated with various cancers and other health problems that is a frightening tally four times larger than previously reported, according to data obtained by the Guardian.

The list of facilities makes it clear that virtually no part of America appears free from the potential risk of air and water contamination with the chemicals known as per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS).

Colorado tops the EPA list with an estimated 21,400 facilities, followed by California’s 13,000 sites and Oklahoma with just under 12,000. The facilities on the list represent dozens of industrial sectors, including oil and gas work, mining, chemical manufacturing, plastics, waste management and landfill operations. Airports, fire training facilities and some military-related sites are also included.

The EPA describes its list as “facilities in industries that may be handling PFAS”. Most of the facilities are described as “active”, several thousand are listed as “inactive” and many others show no indication of such status. PFAS are often referred to as “forever chemicals” due to their longevity in the environment, thus even sites that are no longer actively discharging pollutants can still be a problem, according to the EPA.

The tally far exceeds a previous analysis that showed 29,900 industrial sites known or suspected of making or using the toxic chemicals. Map of PFAS possible locations

People living near such facilities “are certain to be exposed, some at very high levels” to PFAS chemicals, said David Brown, a public health toxicologist and former director of environmental epidemiology at the Connecticut department of health.

Brown said he suspects there are far more sites than even those on the EPA list, posing long-term health risks for unsuspecting people who live near them.

“Once it’s in the environment it almost never breaks down,” Brown said of PFAS. “This is such a potent compound in terms of its toxicity and it tends to bioaccumulate … This is one of the compounds that persists forever.”

A Guardian analysis of the EPA data set shows that in Colorado, one county alone – Weld county – houses more than 8,000 potential PFAS handling sites, with 7,900 described as oil and gas operations. Oil and gas operations lead the list of industry sectors the EPA says may be handling PFAS chemicals, according to the Guardian analysis.

In July, a report by Physicians for Social Responsibility presented evidence that oil and gas companies have been using PFAS, or substances that can degrade into PFAS, in hydraulic fracturing (“fracking”), a technique used to extract natural gas or oil.

‘Permeating all industrial sectors’

The EPA said in 2019 that it was compiling data to create a map of “known or potential PFAS contamination sources” to help “assess environmental trends in PFAS concentrations” and aid local authorities in oversight. But no such map has yet been issued publicly.

The new data set shows a total count of 122,181 separate facilities after adjustments for duplications and errors in listed locations, and incorporation and analysis of additional EPA identifying information. The EPA facility list was provided to the Guardian by the non-profit Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility (Peer), which received it from the EPA through a Freedom of Information request. (Peer is currently representing four EPA scientists who have requested a federal inquiry into what they allege is an EPA practice of ignoring or covering up the risks of certain dangerous chemicals.)

“This shows how PFAS is permeating all industrial sectors,” said Peer’s executive director, Tim Whitehouse. PFAS possible locations by industry

PFAS chemicals are a group of more than 5,000 man-made compounds used by a variety of industries since the 1940s for such things as electronics manufacturing, oil recovery, paints, fire-fighting foams, cleaning products and non-stick cookware. People can be exposed through contaminated drinking water, food and air, as well as contact with commercial products made with PFAS.

The EPA acknowledges there is “evidence that exposure to PFAS can cause adverse health outcomes in humans”. But the agency also says that there is only “very limited information” about human health risks for most of the chemicals within the group of PFAS chemicals.

EPA officials have started taking steps to get a grasp on the extent of PFAS use and existing and potential environmental contamination, as independent researchers say their own studies are finding reason for alarm. Last year, for instance, scientists at the non-profit Environmental Working Group issued a report finding that more than 200 million Americans could have PFAS in their drinking water at worrisome levels.

The EPA is expected to announce a broad new “action plan” addressing PFAS issues on Monday. The list of facilities handling PFAS is one part of the larger effort by the agency to “better understand and reduce the potential risks to human health and the environment caused by PFAS,” EPA deputy press secretary Tim Carroll told the Guardian.

“EPA has made addressing PFAS a top priority,” Carroll said. “Together we are identifying flexible and pragmatic approaches that will deliver critical public health protections.”

Linda Birnbaum, former director of the National Institute for Environmental Health Sciences and an expert on PFAS, said the EPA compilation of more than 120,000 facilities that may be handling PFAS and other recent moves shows the agency is taking the issue seriously, but more work is urgently needed.

“Unfortunately, where PFAS are used, there is often local contamination,” Birnbaum said. And while the EPA appears to be trying to get a handle on the extent of exposure concerns, progress “seems very slow”, she said.

The American Chemistry Council (ACC) asserts that PFAS concerns are overblown.

Major manufacturers have backed away from the PFOS and PFOA-related chemicals that research has shown to be hazardous, and other types of PFAS are not proven to be dangerous, according to the chemical industry organization. “PFAS are vital” to modern society, according to the ACC.

But public health and environmental groups, along with some members of Congress, say the risks posed to people by industrial use of PFAS substances are substantial.

Four US lawmakers led by Rosa DeLauro, chair of the House Committee on Appropriations, wrote to the EPA administrator, Michael Regan, on 6 October about their concerns regarding PFAS contamination of air and water from industrial facilities, saying: “For too many American families, this exposure is increasing their risk of cancer and other serious health problems.”

More than 150 advocacy groups also sent a letter to Regan calling for urgent action to address industrial discharges of PFAS chemicals, noting that many of the chemicals “have been linked at very low doses to serious health harms”.

Fears and foamy water

Locator map

One of the sites on the EPA list is the Clover Flat landfill in Calistoga, California, a small community in the Napa Valley area that is popular for its vineyards and wineries. The landfill sits on the northern edge of the valley atop the edge of a rugged mountain range.

Clover Flat has taken in household garbage, as well as commercial and industrial waste since the 1960s, but over time the landfill has also become a disposal site for debris from forest fires.

Though the EPA list does not specifically confirm Clover Flat is handling PFAS, the community has no doubt about the presence of the toxic chemicals. A May 2020 water sampling report requested by regional water quality control officials showed that PFAS chemicals were present in every single sample taken from groundwater and from the leachate liquid materials around the landfill.

Close to 5,000 people live within a three-mile radius of the landfill, and many fear the PFAS and other toxins taken in by the landfill are making their way deep into the community.

Geoffrey Ellsworth, mayor of the small city of St Helena in Napa county, said multiple streams cross the landfill property, helping rains and erosion drive the chemical contaminants downhill into creeks and other water sources, including some used to irrigate farmland. He has been seeking regulatory intervention but has not been successful, he told the Guardian.

A small group of Napa Valley residents have been working on a documentary film about their concerns with the landfill, highlighting fears that exposures to PFAS and other contaminants are jeopardizing their health.

“The water is full of foam and looks soapy and smells funny,” said 69-year-old Dennis Kelly, who lives on a few acres downhill from Clover Flat. His dog Scarlett has become sick after wading through waters that drain from the landfill into a creek that runs through his property, Kelly said. And for the last few years he has suffered with colon and stomach cancer.

Kelly said he fears the water is toxic, and he has noticed the frogs and tadpoles that once populated the little creek are now nowhere to be found.

“Pollution is going to be what kills us all,” Kelly said.

Wake up and smell the coffee … made in the United States

Reuters

Wake up and smell the coffee … made in the United States

Marcelo Teixeira – September 22, 2021

Coffee crops are seen in the Hobson Family Farms

Farmer Jay Ruskey, the Chief Executive of FRINJ Coffee, drives his truck around his farm in California

Xiaolei Guo utilises artificial intelligence image analysis software to examine greenhouse coffee tree roots

Research coffee trees planted amongst citrus

Coffee trees are seen in a greenhouse at the UF/IFAS Plant Science Research and Education Unit in Citra

NEW YORK (Reuters) – Farmer David Armstrong recently finished planting what is likely the most challenging crop his family has ever cultivated since his ancestors started farming in 1865 – 20,000 coffee trees.

Except Armstrong is not in the tropics of Central America – he is in Ventura, California, just 60 miles (97 km) away from downtown Los Angeles.

“I guess now I can say I am a coffee farmer!” he said, after planting the last seedlings of high-quality varieties of arabica coffee long cultivated in sweltering equatorial climates.

Coffee is largely produced in the Coffee Belt, located between the Tropic of Cancer and the Tropic of Capricorn, where countries such as Brazil, Colombia, Ethiopia and Vietnam have provided the best climate for coffee trees, which need constant heat to survive.

Climate change is altering temperatures around the globe. That is harming crops in numerous locales, but opening up possibilities in other regions. That includes California and Florida, where farmers and researchers are looking at growing coffee.

Armstrong recently joined a group of farmers taking part in the largest-ever coffee growing endeavor in the United States. The nation is the world’s largest consumer of the beverage but produces just 0.01% of the global coffee crop – and that was all in Hawaii, one of only two U.S. states with a tropical climate, along with southern Florida.

Traditional producers of coffee such as Colombia, Brazil and Vietnam have suffered from the impact of extreme heat and changing rain patterns. Botanists and researchers are looking to plant hardier crop varieties for some of those nations’ coffee growing regions.

Top producer Brazil is going through the worst drought in over 90 years https://www.reuters.com/business/environment/brazil-drought-alert-country-faces-worst-dry-spell-91-years-2021-05-28. That was compounded by a series of unexpected frosts, which damaged about 10% of the trees, hurting coffee production this year and next.

CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’

“We are getting to 100,000 trees,” said Jay Ruskey, founder and chief executive of Frinj Coffee, a company that offers farmers interested in coffee growing a partnership package including seedlings, post-harvest processing and marketing.

Ruskey says he started trial planting of coffee in California many years ago but told few about it. He said he only “came out of the closet as a coffee farmer” in 2014, when Coffee Review, a publication that evaluates the best coffees every crop year, reviewed his coffee, giving his batch of caturra arabica coffee a score of 91 points out of 100.

Frinj is still a small coffee company targeting high-end specialty buyers. Frinj sells bags of 5 ounces (140 grams) for $80 each on its website. As a comparison, 8-ounce packages of Starbucks Reserve, the top-quality coffee sold by the U.S. chain, sell for $35 each. Frinj produced 2,000 pounds (907 kg) of dry coffee this year from eight farms.

“We are still young, still growing in terms of farms, post-harvest capabilities,” said Ruskey. “We are trying to keep the price high, and we are selling everything we produce.” The venture is already profitable,” he said.

The company has been growing slowly since, with Armstrong’s 7,000-acre (2,833-hectare) Smith Hobson Ranch one of the latest, and largest, to partner with Ruskey.

“I have no experience in coffee,” said Armstrong, who typically grows citrus fruits and avocados, among other crops.

To boost his chances of success, he installed a new irrigation system to increase water use efficiency and has planted the trees away from parts of the ranch that have been hit by frosts in the past.

Coffee uses 20% less water than most fruit and nut trees, according to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization. Water has become scarce in California after recent droughts and forest fires. Many farmers are switching crops to deal with limits on water use.

Giacomo Celi, sustainability director at Mercon Coffee Group, one of the world’s largest traders of green coffee, said the risks of cultivating coffee in new areas are high.

“It seems more logical to invest in new coffee varieties that could be grown in the same current geographies,” he said.

FLORIDA HOPES

As the climate warms in the southern United States, researchers at the University of Florida (UF) are working with a pilot plantation to see if trees will survive in that state.

Scientists have just moved seedlings of arabica coffee trees grown in a greenhouse to the open, where they will be exposed to the elements, creating the risk that plants could be killed by the cold when the winter comes.

“It is going to be the first time they will be tested,” said Diane Rowland, a lead researcher on the project.

Rowland said researchers are planting coffee trees close to citrus, an intercropping technique used in other parts of the world as larger trees help hold winds and provide shade to coffee trees.

The project, however, is about more than just coffee cultivation. Alina Zare, an artificial intelligence researcher at UF’s College of Engineering, said scientists are also trying to improve how to study plants’ root systems. That, in turn, could help in the selection of optimal coffee varieties for the region in the future.

According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the U.S. weather agency, annual mean temperatures were at least 2 degrees Fahrenheit (1.1 degrees Celsius) above average for more than half the time in the long-term measuring stations across the United States’ southeastern region in 2020.

Florida experienced record heat last year, with average temperatures of 28.3 C (83 F) in July, and 16.4 C (61.6 F) in January. That is hotter than Brazil’s Varginha area in Minas Gerais state, the largest coffee-producing region in the world, which averages 22.1 C (71.8 F) in its hottest month and 16.6 C (61.9 F) in the coldest.

“With climate change, we know many areas in the world will have difficulties growing coffee because it is going to be too hot, so Florida could be an option,” Rowland said.

(Reporting by Marcelo Teixeira in New York; Editing by David Gaffen and Matthew Lewis)

Climate change and drought threaten a way of life for Arizona farmers

Yahoo – News

Climate change and drought threaten a way of life for Arizona farmers

Miranda Green, Contributor September 16, 2021

Nancy Caywood recalls the days when the white tufts on the cotton plants on her family’s 255-acre farm popped out against the stark blue desert sky, and their alfalfa fields were a sea of green yielding eight to 10 cuttings a year.

“To walk out and smell the fresh hay, there’s nothing like it,” the third-generation Casa Grande, Ariz., farmer told Yahoo News.

This year, thanks to the extreme drought that experts say is exacerbated by climate change, all they’ve been able to grow successfully is weeds.

“My grandfather may have experienced rough times, but never a mega-drought. He’s never had to tear out his entire farm,” said Caywood. “We’re scared to death.”

A irrigation canal dried out due to water shortages at farm in Casa Grande, Ariz., in August. — An irrigation canal dried out due to water shortages at a farm in Casa Grande, Ariz., in August. (Cassidy Araiza/Bloomberg via Getty Images)

The water situation is dire in the state of Arizona, which is facing its 22nd year of drought. Despite some relief from the annual monsoons, daily temperatures in the state are still hitting record highs, and local rivers are running dry. In mid-August, the federal government announced its first-ever water shortage declaration for the Colorado River, triggering cuts in the amount of water Arizona will be allowed to draw from it, starting in January.

It’s a reality that scientists say is a result of a warming planet caused by the burning of fossil fuels, and Arizona’s farmers are facing what could be a make-or-break moment for their industry. But while agriculture is well represented in the state’s Republican-majority Legislature, many in the party have refused to acknowledge a link to climate change or pass bills to address it.

“They talk about drought, but don’t talk about the fact that climate change is intensifying the drought. They don’t acknowledge it relative to fires and the fact that fires are larger relative to climate change,” said Sandy Bahr, Grand Canyon chapter director for the Sierra Club. “They are just not in touch with science at all. Or any of the reports that come out that point to climate change as exacerbating many of these issues.”

Arizona was once a national environmental leader. In 2006, then-Gov. Janet Napolitano signed an executive order to create a climate action plan, making it one of the first states to do so. But there’s been a strong reversal since then. In 2010, the next governor, Jan Brewer, signed a law that forbade any state agencies from monitoring greenhouse gas emissions, and it remains on the books today. In 2015, Arizona’s Legislature prohibited cities from requiring any energy benchmarking in commercial structures. And in 2019, it passed a bill that prevents Arizona’s cities and towns from banning any natural gas or other fossil fuel hookups in buildings.

Arizona Gov. Doug Ducey meets President Donald Trump in the White House in August last year. — Arizona Gov. Doug Ducey with President Donald Trump in the White House in August 2020. (Doug Mills-Pool/Getty Images)

The state’s current governor, Doug Ducey, came close to acknowledging climate change in 2019, nearly four years into his term, saying: “Nobody knows better than the governor of a state like Arizona, that has such an arid climate and has had to make so many plans and sacrifices to have the rich and abundant water resources that we have, that we have to pay attention to our environment.”

Despite its “arid climate,” agriculture is one of Arizona’s biggest industries. Yuma County, near the southern border, is often referred to as the country’s “salad bowl,” due to its output of leafy greens in the winter. But the impact of the drought is likely to hurt farming in an outsized way.

Politicians in the state are considering desperate measures to help aid the industry, including an expensive water-desalination alternative, as well as a proposal to build a cross-state pipeline to drain water from the ever-flooding Mississippi River.

But agriculture is also a top consumer of water, using nearly 74 percent of the water in the state, according to a 2018 University of Arizona economic impact study, and that fact has created tension between municipalities and environmentalists who believe water conservation, not growing crops, should be the state’s main focus.

State Sen. Juan Mendez, a Democrat, said the bills that have so far been considered by the Legislature focus on conserving the “status quo,” instead of on a true solution. That’s because, he believes, the only real solution to Arizona’s problem is to restrict water allocation. Mendez himself has introduced and co-sponsored a number of bills on climate change in the state.

Minerals deposited on previously submerged surfaces marked the shoreline of the Colorado River during low water levels in Arizona, Nev., in August. — Minerals deposited on previously submerged surfaces marked the shoreline of the Colorado River during low water levels in August. (Roger Kisby/Bloomberg via Getty Images)

“No one wants to consider the idea of using less water. They want to throw money at a desalination plant. Now they are honestly considering moving water from another state,” Mendez said. “They are just keeping Pinal County farmers happy. There’s not going to be one answer that solves the drought problem or climate change — or all of these environmental disasters.”

Agriculture nets Pinal County $2.4 billion in annual profits, according to Chelsea McGuire, the Arizona Farm Bureau’s government relations director. It’s anticipated to be one of the first regions in Arizona to see its access to Colorado River water cut off, and instead will have to rely on limited groundwater supply and rain. Water shortage is expected to create a $66 million loss in crop sales there, and it’s causing farmers in the area to think deeply about the industry’s future. But there is also no obvious solution to their plight, says McGuire.

“No one is seeing this as temporary. We are seeing a dryer future. … I think everything is going to have to change, from what I’m growing, to how I’m growing it, to where I’m growing it,” she said.

Paul Ollerton grew up farming in Pinal County. His father, uncle and grandfather were also farmers. He said he’s facing a tough decision this year: He doesn’t have enough Colorado River water to grow all of his crops, nor the capacity to pump enough of it from the ground.

A worker moves irrigation tubes on a farm in Pinal County at Minal, Ariz. — A worker moves irrigation tubes on a farm in Pinal County, Ariz. (Carolyn Cole/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images)

“We knew for a long time that this day was probably coming, and we just didn’t know when,” he said.

A partner and owner of Tierra Verde Farms in Casa Grande, Ollerton estimates he’ll have to leave nearly 25 percent of his fields fallow this year due to lack of water.

“Without really sounding negative and a Debby Downer, I don’t see a lot of future — it’s a tough battle here,” he said.

Many farmers’ frustration lies largely with the local municipalities, which get first choice of the water and then allocate the remaining surface water to farmers. But not all farmers lay the larger blame on climate change.

“I think there might be some things related to it, but I’m not saying climate change is the way to address all of these issues,” Ollerton said. “I don’t think it’s totally responsible for what’s happening. I don’t think I buy some of the theories or science. I think it’s just weather patterns. I think we’re just in a dry cycle.”

Caywood finds it equally hard to know where to place blame, though she says many in her town have pointed a finger at farmers.

“People don’t respect where their food is coming from. This growing in the desert has been done for decades, and we have ideal growing conditions,” she said. “Everybody asks if it’s climate change. I believe it’s cyclical. I believe it’s like climate change. … Whatever is happening, it’s happening fast. I thought something like this would happen over 100 years — this is happening over 20.”

Cattle feed on an abandoned orchard as drought worsens near Red Lake, north of Kingman, Ariz. in June. — Cattle feed on an abandoned orchard as drought worsens near Red Lake, north of Kingman, Ariz., in June. (David McNew/Getty Images)

Caywood says her family doesn’t expect to make any profits this year, and as that uncertainty plays out, she’s watched the worry lines grow on the face of her 40-year-old son Travis, also a farmer. She’s not sure what her family will ultimately do with their acreage, but many neighbors have already sold their land to a new growing industry in the state: solar.

“I’m losing my toughness over this. I want to be resilient and bounce back from this, but unfortunately, I am becoming an island surrounded by solar panels,” Caywood said.

She said there’s a chance her farm could be the next sale.

“My dad passed away in January. I was on my way to the farm in April. I drove over the canal and there was low water in it, and I just burst into tears, knowing that that was my livelihood drying up,” she said.

Native plants belong in Missouri and Kansas prairies — and in your front yards, too

The Kansas City Star

Native plants belong in Missouri and Kansas prairies — and in your front yards, too

Carol Davit September 16, 2021

Plants that are native to Missouri and Kansas — from our mighty oaks to brilliant wildflowers — support songbirds, monarch butterflies and other treasured wildlife. They also beautify home landscapes, city streets and parks, and can be used to manage stormwater, store carbon in the ground via complex root systems, and support pollinators. And if those weren’t enough virtues — I’ve got more: There are native plants for every gardening situation, from dry, rocky locations to poorly drained areas.

At the time it gained statehood, Missouri was blanketed with at least 15 million acres of tallgrass prairie — about a third of the state. Prairie here, and in Kansas, was part of the great North American prairie ecosystem that stretched from Ohio to the Rockies, north into Canada, and south to Mexico. Forty-eight percent of Jackson County was covered in prairie grasses and wildflowers. Today, there are fewer than 51,000 scattered prairie acres remaining in Missouri, with once vast landscapes converted to agriculture and other development.

Groups such as the Missouri Prairie Foundation, other land trusts and state agencies are protecting as much remaining, original, unplowed prairie and other habitats like forests, woodlands, glades and wetlands in the greater Kansas City area as possible — while they still exist to save. These natural communities provide vital habitat for pollinating insects, songbirds and other wildlife as well as perform carbon-capture, stormwater management and other services that benefit us.

These remnant wild spaces are also sources of seeds for the native plant industry. Purchasing native trees, shrubs, grasses, wildflowers and other natives from native plant businesses to use in our yards, farms, businesses, schools and parks can restore ecological function to the metro area.

There are native plants that are compatible with every landscaping need and gardening condition. Natives adapted to dry rocky glades, for instance, are the same plants that work well in rock gardens or in the dry, poor soils in many urban parking lot borders. And wetland plants, evolved to tolerate periods of flood and drought, can be used in rain gardens, bioswales and other areas to slow and filter stormwater.

Native landscaping can be informal, such as a native wildflower meadow in a backyard. It can also be formal, with compact species such as butterfly milkweed and wild blue indigo adding front yard beauty for you and food sources for pollinating insects, monarch butterflies, and more.

Many municipalities are using natives to convert unused turf areas into wildflower meadows to beautify parks, reduce mowing costs and provide pollinator and songbird habitat. Stormwater managers use prairie and wetland plants with complex root systems (some reaching 15 feet deep) to hold enormous amounts of stormwater, and to trap nitrogen and other nutrients that can pollute city-owned ponds and lakes.

There simply aren’t enough acres of intact natural habitats “out there” to sustain nature’s services that benefit us, nor to feed and fledge monarch butterflies, warblers and all the other animals that add to a community’s livability factor. We must make our human-scapes as habitable as possible, and restore nature’s web of life from the bottom up. That foundation is native plants. Happy gardening.

Carol Davit is executive director of the Missouri Prairie Foundation and its Grow Native! program. Native trees, shrubs, wildflowers, grasses, sedges and vines will be available for purchase Sept. 18 at the Anita B. Gorman Discovery Center at the Missouri Prairie Foundation native plant sale. Find many free resources on native landscaping from the Missouri Prairie Foundation’s Grow Native! program at grownative.org. Learn more about Missouri’s prairie heritage and how you can be involved in protecting it at moprairie.org.

Pasture conditions in the US are the worst they’ve been since 2012. That’s bad for inflation.

Quartz – Drought Disaster

Pasture conditions in the US are the worst they’ve been since 2012. That’s bad for inflation.

By Claisa Diaz, Things Reporter September 15, 2021

Reuters / Aude Gerrucci. California faced its worst drought since 1977.

The governors of 10 states in the American West recently called on the Biden administration to declare a drought disaster. It follows an intense summer of drought and record-breaking wildfires across the whole region. It’s been a month since the letter was sent and the administration has yet to act on it.

Data from the US Department of Agriculture (USDA) show that pasture and range conditions have been in decline for quite some time. Pasture varies in its uses but is important for harvesting livestock feed like hay, and provides range for animals to roam and graze. Less quality pasture means less food for livestock and other animals, which could lead to higher prices for meat and dairy products—or even a shortage. It also means more yellow and brown in typically green landscapes.

Drought is hurting US pasture and range

The USDA ranks pasture conditions from “excellent” to “very poor”, with “good” meaning yield prospects are normal. During the past two decades, only small portions of US pasture have regularly been in “excellent” condition but typically about 75% of US pasture is rated at least “fair.”

Conditions have continued to trend away from good since 2015. The portion of pasture and range rated “poor”, and “very poor” has increased—meaning more and more crops and grasslands are undergoing stress.

Less feed means higher prices

The cost of animal feeds is already going up for farmers, just as it did when pastures suffered in 2012. Though today, pandemic related supply chain issues and higher fuel costs are also contributing to the trend. Some areas are reporting shortages among increased prices.

California’s second drought in three years

“You have situations in central California where there’s not sufficient water at all and farms are collapsing, farms are failing,” said Rick Mueller who manages tools that measure crop conditions and soil moisture for the USDA. “It’s just a really hard cycle that we’ve been going through now.” Major drought started in California around 2011, broke around 2018 and now it’s back again. “It’s a matter of farmers being able to adapt and react to the climate that’s around them.”

Short term price increases, long term food supply risks

According to the letter, “There is little to no animal feed across much of the west, requiring farmers to import feed from out of state…Hay prices have skyrocketed, ranchers are selling off their livestock and others are considering selling prime agricultural lands for development.” The letter warns that drought could have long-term impacts on the food supply, wildlife, and livelihood of Americans in the West as these conditions persist.

As states lack resources to deal with drought and wildfires, among climate disasters of all kinds, national US disaster policy will need to reform. State lawmakers are asking the federal government to provide support beyond what is available through existing emergency programs.

World Faces Growing Risk of Food Shortages Due to Climate Change

Bloomberg

World Faces Growing Risk of Food Shortages Due to Climate Change

Áine Quinn September 13, 2021

(Bloomberg) — Food supplies will struggle to keep pace with the world’s growing population as climate change sends temperatures soaring and droughts intensify, according to a report from Chatham House.

Yields of staple crops could decline by almost a third by 2050 unless emissions are drastically reduced in the next decade, while farmers will need to grow nearly 50% more food to meet global demand, the think tank said. The Chatham House report was drawn up for heads of state before next month’s pivotal United Nations COP26 climate summit in Glasgow.

Food prices are already near a decade high, fueled by supply chain disruptions during the pandemic and extreme weather. Wheat prices surged over the summer due to crop losses in some of the biggest exporters. The Chatham House report suggests climate challenges could keep that trend intact.

“We can expect all basic food staples to significantly increase in price,” the report’s lead author Daniel Quiggin said in an interview. “We would also expect there to be shortages in some reaches of the world.”

Thе proportion of cropland affected by drought will more than triple to 32% a year, the report said. It also predicts nearly 50-50 odds of a loss of 10% or more of the corn crop across the top four producing countries during the 2040s.

Major crops from wheat to soy and rice “are likely to see big yield declines” due to drought, and shorter growing periods, Quiggin said. Severe climate impacts will be “locked in” by 2040 if countries do not reduce emissions, according to the report.

It’s not bull, scientists potty train cows to tackle climate change

The Telegraph

It’s not bull, scientists potty train cows to tackle climate change

Joe Pinkstone September 13, 2021

One of the calves entering the ‘MooLoo’ for the experiment - FBN — One of the calves entering the ‘MooLoo’ for the experiment – FBN

Potty training cows to use a bovine lavatory could help reduce greenhouse gas emissions and save the planet, scientists claimed.

Researchers from the Research Institute for Farm Animal Biology attempted to potty train 16 calves using a “MooLoo” contraption of their own design.

They successfully trained 11 of them to regularly use a latrine which captures their waste and disposes of it before it turns into nitrous oxide, the third most important greenhouse gas behind methane and carbon dioxide.

Dr Jan Langbein, an animal psychologist at the Research Institute for Farm Animal Biology in Germany, said: “It’s usually assumed that cattle are not capable of controlling defecation or urination.

“Cattle, like many other animals or farm animals, are quite clever and they can learn a lot. Why shouldn’t they be able to learn how to use a toilet?”

Cows are notorious for their gassy stomachs and their flatulence is a major source of global methane emissions.

However, the environmental impact of cattle farming goes beyond potent burps, as the amount of land and energy needed to produce both cattle feed and land for grazing creates huge amounts of carbon dioxide.

Researchers rewarded the cows when they urinated in a latrine, and then allowed them access to it even when they were grazing outside - FBN — Researchers rewarded the cows when they urinated in a latrine, and then allowed them access to it even when they were grazing outside – FBN

It has previously been estimated that cattle agriculture accounts for almost 15 per cent of all greenhouse gas emissions worldwide.

But while methane and carbon dioxide are the two most troublesome gases, cows are also indirectly responsible for producing the third most troublesome gas: nitrous oxide.

Faeces and urine produced by cows mix together and turn into ammonia, and when this seeps into the soil, specialist bacteria turn it into nitrous oxide.

To potty train the calves, researchers started off by rewarding them when they urinated in a latrine, and then allowed them access to the latrine even when they were grazing outside.

Dr Langbein, said: “You have to try to include the animals in the process and train the animals to follow what they should learn. We guessed it should be possible to train the animals, but to what extent we didn’t know.”

To encourage latrine use, researchers wanted the animals to associate urination outside the latrine with an unpleasant experience.

Dr Langbein explained: “As a punishment, we first used in-ear headphones and we played a very nasty sound whenever they urinated outside. We thought this would punish the animals – not too aversively – but they didn’t care. Ultimately, a splash of water worked well as a gentle deterrent.”

Researchers said the calves showed a level of performance comparable to that of children and superior to that of very young children.

They hope that with more training, the success rate can be improved, and they want to transfer their results into real cattle housing and to outdoor systems.

Dr Langbein hopes that “in a few years, all cows will go to a toilet” and published the findings in the journal Current Biology.

This is not the first time scientists have tried to curb the gaseous production of cows, with previous studies focusing on their methane-filled flatulence.

A team of academics from the University of Kiel in Germany strapped methane harnesses to cows to monitor just how much methane they produced on a day-to-day basis; feeding cows seaweed to cut the amount of methane they make; and a tablet to curb methane emissions.

However, no novel methane-control methods have yet to crack the farming industry, and the best way to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from cattle is to cut down on our reliance on them for meat and cattle.

A study published on Monday in the journal Nature Food found animal-based foods produce twice as many greenhouse gases every year as plant-based food.

Global food production makes about 17 billion metric tons of carbon dioxide per year and 57 per cent comes from animal-based foods and 29 per cent from plant-based food.

Beef alone accounted for more than four billion tons, and cow milk more than 1.5 billion tons. Cow milk and beef combined make more greenhouse gas emissions than all plant-based food.

Farmers restore native grasslands as groundwater disappears

Associated Press

Farmers restore native grasslands as groundwater disappears

Tammy Webber September 9, 2021

Sand that blew off farmers’ fields is piled up in a ditch outside Lingo, N.M., near the Texas-New Mexico border on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The U.S. Department of Agriculture is encouraging farmers in a “Dust Bowl zone” that includes parts of Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas and Colorado to establish and preserve grasslands to prevent wind erosion as the area becomes increasingly dry. (AP Photo/Mark Roger

Biologist Jude Smith discusses how native grasslands can survive drought and prevent wind erosion as he looks over prairie at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Tex., on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The U.S. Department of Agriculture is encouraging farmers in a “Dust Bowl zone” that includes parts of Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas and Colorado to preserve and establish grasslands as the area becomes increasingly dry. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Jude Smith, a biologist at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Texas, looks over dry native prairie on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The U.S. Department of Agriculture is encouraging farmers in a “Dust Bowl zone” that includes parts of Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas and Colorado to preserve and establish grasslands, which can withstand drought. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Biologist Jude Smith stands on a bluff overlooking an empty saline lake at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Texas, on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The lakes are fed by the Ogallala Aquifer, which has been become increasingly dry because of irrigation and drought. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Biologist Jude Smith looks over native grasses at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Texas, on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The U.S. Department of Agriculture is encouraging farmers in a “Dust Bowl zone” that includes parts of Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas and Colorado to preserve and establish grasslands, which can survive drought and prevent wind erosion. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers

Biologist Jude Smith stands on a bluff overlooking an empty saline lake at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Tex., on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The lake is fed by the Ogallala Aquifer, which has been become increasingly dry because of irrigation and drought. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Jude Smith, a biologist at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Texas, looks at a big mound of sand on his property on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. A dust storm deposited the sand over a two-day period this spring. The U.S. Department of Agriculture is encouraging farmers in a “Dust Bowl zone” that includes parts of Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas and Colorado to preserve and establish grasslands to help hold soil in place. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

A natural spring fed by the Ogallala Aquifer fills a stock tank that provides water for wildlife at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Texas, on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The aquifer has become increasingly dry because of irrigation and drought. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Biologist Jude Smith looks over a nearly dry spring at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Texas, on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The spring is fed by the Ogallala Aquifer, which is becoming depleted because of irrigation and drought. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Biologist Jude Smith stands on a bluff overlooking an empty saline lake at the Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge outside Muleshoe, Texas, on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. The lake is fed by the Ogallala Aquifer, which has been become increasingly dry because of irrigation and drought. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black tosses unscented laundry detergent into a stock tank at his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021, to reduce bloating in his cattle. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and has planted some of his land in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, used to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black stands in a pasture of wheat and grass at his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and has planted some of his land in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, used to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black holds a container of unscented laundry detergent near a stock tank on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and has planted some of his land in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, used to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black, left, stops to talk to his son, Tyler, on their farm in Muleshoe, Texas, on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmers now raise cattle and have planted some land in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, used to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black uses binoculars to check out a newborn calf on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, used to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black looks over some of his Black Angus cattle in a feed pen on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black checks on some of his Black Angus cattle at his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

A cow nurses her 4-month-old calf at Tim Black’s Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. Black, a longtime corn farmer, now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Cattle run toward feed on Tim Black’s Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. Black, a longtime corn farmer, now raises cattle and plants on some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black’s cattle eat feed on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021, because the pasture is not yet tall enough to turn them out. Black, a longtime corn farmer, now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black climbs down from his tractor that he’s using to sow grass on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black loads grass seed into a drill on his tractor before sowing the seed on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black uses his tractor’s GPS system while planting grass seed on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grasses because the Ogallala Aquifer, needed to irrigate crops, is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black adjusts the water application rate on a pivot for a newly planted field on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grass – and rations water use — because the Ogallala Aquifer is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black closes a valve while swapping water from one pivot to another on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grass – and rations water use — because the Ogallala Aquifer is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Water is being applied to a wheat field at Tim Black’s Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021. The longtime corn farmer now raises cattle and plants some of his pasture in wheat and native grass – and rations water use — because the Ogallala Aquifer is drying up. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tyler Black adjusts a spray head on a pivot at his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021, as he prepares a pasture for grass-planting. Black and his father raise cattle and plant pasture in wheat and some native grass – and ration water use — because the Ogallala Aquifer is being depleted. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tyler Black attaches a new sand drain on the end of a pivot on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021, as he prepares to plant grass in a pasture. Black raises cattle and plants pasture in wheat and some native grass – and rations water use — because the Ogallala Aquifer is being depleted. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tyler Black attaches a new sand drain on the end of a pivot on his Muleshoe, Texas, farm on Monday, April 19, 2021, as he prepares to plant grass. Black raises cattle and plants pasture in wheat and some native grass – and rations water use — because the Ogallala Aquifer is being depleted. (AP Photo/Mark Rogers)

Tim Black checks on native grasses growing on his farm in Muleshoe, Tex., on Tuesday, May 18, 2021. Black planted the grasses to help keep soil from blowing and to provide grazing for his cattle. More farmers are planting native grasses as the Ogallala aquifer dries up, making irrigation of traditional crops more difficult. (AP Photo/Tammy Webber)

Tim Black checks on native grasses growing on his farm in Muleshoe, Texas, Tuesday, May 18, 2021. Black planted the grasses to help keep soil from blowing and to provide grazing for his cattle. More farmers are planting native grasses as the Ogallala aquifer dries up, making irrigation of traditional crops more difficult. (AP Photo/Tammy Webber)

In this photo provided by Jude Smith, sand blowing off fields creates a dust storm near Morton, Texas, on May 18, 2021. The U.S. Department of Agriculture is encouraging farmers in a “Dust Bowl zone” that includes parts of Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas and Colorado, to preserve and establish grasslands as the area becomes increasingly dry. (Jude Smith via AP)

MULESHOE, Texas (AP) — Tim Black‘s cell phone dings, signaling the time to reverse sprinklers spitting water across a pie-shaped section of grass that will provide pasture for his cattle.

It’s important not to waste a drop. His family’s future depends on it.

For decades, the Texas Panhandle was green with cotton, corn and wheat. Wells drew a thousand gallons (3,785 liters) a minute from the seemingly bottomless Ogallala aquifer, allowing farmers to thrive despite frequent dry spells and summer heat.

But now farmers face a difficult reckoning. Groundwater that sustained livelihoods for generations is disappearing, which has created another problem across the southern plains: When there isn’t enough rain or groundwater to germinate crops, soil can blow away — just as it did during the Dust Bowl of the 1930s.

“We wasted the hell out of the water,” says Black, recalling how farmers irrigated when he was a kid — as if it would last forever. Water flooded furrows or sprayed in high arcs before farmers adopted more efficient center-pivot systems that gave the Southwest its polka-dot landscape.

His grandfather could reach water with a post-hole digger. Now, Black is lucky to draw 50 gallons (189 liters) a minute from high-pressure wells, some almost 400 feet (122 meters) deep. He buys bottled water for his family because the well water is salty.

ENDANGERED AQUIFERS

The problem isn’t unique to the Ogallala. Aquifers from California’s Central Valley farm country to India and China are being depleted. But the 174,000-square-mile (450,658-square-kilometer) Ogallala — one of the world’s largest — is vital to farmers and ranchers in parts of eight plains states from South Dakota southward.

The region produces almost one-third of U.S. commodity crops and livestock protein, which affects other agricultural industries, small businesses, land values and community tax bases, says Amy Kremen, project manager at the U.S. Department of Agriculture-funded Ogallala Water Coordinated Agriculture Project that supports water management.

But because water doesn’t recharge easily in most areas, if it runs out, it could be gone for hundreds if not thousands of years.

Though groundwater in Texas can recharge to a degree, by percolating through playa lakes, many have been plowed over and no longer function.

And in Texas, along with parts of New Mexico and Oklahoma, water is disappearing more rapidly than elsewhere in the aquifer, also called the High Plains. Less-frequent rain linked to climate change means groundwater often is the only option for farmers, forcing tough choices.

Some are growing crops that require less water or investing in more efficient irrigation systems. Others, like Black, also are replacing cash crops with livestock and pastureland.

And more are returning land to its literal roots — by planting native grasses that green with the slightest rain and grow dense roots that hold soil in place.

“There’s a reason Mother Nature selected those plants to be in those areas,” says Nick Bamert, whose father started a Muleshoe-based seed company specializing in native grasses 70 years ago. “The natives … will persist because they’ve seen the coldest winters and the hottest dry summers.”

Black, who once grew mostly corn, plants such grass on corners of his fields, as pasture for his growing herd of cattle and as a cover crop between rows of wheat and annual grass.

The transition to cattle, he hopes, will allow his oldest son, Tyler, to stay on the land Black’s grandparents began plowing 100 years ago. His younger son, Trent, “could see the writing on the wall” and is a data analyst near Dallas.

“You want your kids to come back, but damn, there’s better ways to make a living than what we’re doing,” says Black, maneuvering his pickup through a pasture. “It’s just too hard here with no water.”

LOSING FARMLAND

Dry grass crackles underfoot as Jude Smith reaches an overlook at Muleshoe National Wildlife Refuge, established during the Great Depression and Dust Bowl to preserve native prairie and three spring-fed lakes.

It’s mid-May and everything looks dead because there’s been almost no rain for a year. The lakes — where the Ogallala should bubble up and tens of thousands of migrating Sandhill cranes gather in good years — are dry, too, save for muddy streaks darkening the lakebed. The water disappeared as nearby farmers struggled to pump enough groundwater to grow cotton.

Rain might not raise the water table much, says Smith, a biologist who manages the refuge. But the native prairie comes alive with even a trickle.

While nonnative grass dies during droughts, native grass goes dormant and the roots — up to 15 feet (5 meters) deep — hold soil.

Rain came this summer — about 16 inches (41 centimeters) so far — often in torrents. The refuge’s lakes refilled from runoff and springs started running again, Smith says. Meanwhile, the native grasslands “look like Ireland.”

The welcome rain hasn’t allayed long-term worries about groundwater and droughts, says Black, the Muleshoe landowner. It came too late to help germinate spring crops, and farmers continued to irrigate.

The Texas Panhandle almost certainly will continue to be locked into extended periods of drought that have persisted across the Southwest for 20 years, says meteorologist Brad Rippey with the USDA.

“People that have been farming out there for a couple decades are concerned,” he says, adding that drought could return this fall.

Already it billows off plowed fields during dry spells, including along the Texas-New Mexico border, where rippling piles of it — some 10-15 feet (3-5 meters) high — can clog fields, ditches and roadways. It blows off rooftops like snow, says Smith, who this spring found big mounds formed in his yard overnight.

Farmers have called him to ask if the wildlife refuge could buy their land, which it’s not authorized to do.

“Everybody knows that … the water’s going away,” he says, driving past abandoned farmhouses, tree stands that mark long-gone homesteads and rusted irrigation equipment. “Farmers do the best they can with what they’ve got, but I don’t know how many more years we can do this.”

There is reason for concern, experts say.

More than half the currently irrigated land in portions of western Texas, eastern New Mexico and the Oklahoma Panhandle could be lost by the end of the century — with 80% of those losses by 2060, according to a study published last year.

But areas throughout the aquifer also are vulnerable. The central part could lose up to 40% of irrigated area by 2100, with more than half the losses in the next 40 years.

Those losses might be slowed as farmers adapt to lower water levels, researchers say. But the projections underscore the need for planning and incentives in vulnerable areas.

NEW DUST BOWL ZONE

The USDA has identified a “Dust Bowl Zone” that covers parts of Colorado, Kansas, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Texas vulnerable to severe wind erosion and where grasslands conservation is a priority.

Already, reestablishing native vegetation in the sandy soil over the Ogallala has proven difficult where irrigation ceased on former Kansas farmland. The same is true on land outside the Ogallala previously irrigated by rivers, including in Colorado’s Arkansas River Valley, where agricultural land dried out before native grasses could be established.

With less rainfall, farmers likely will need to use some remaining groundwater to reestablish native grasses to avoid Dust Bowl conditions, says study co-author Meagan Schipanski, an associate professor of soil and crop sciences at Colorado State University.

“In an ideal world, there would be some forethought and incentives available” to help farmers make the transition “before there’s not enough water there,” Schipanski says.

Chris Grotegrut already has planted 75% of his family’s 11,000 acres (4,452 hectares) in native grasses; he uses it to graze cattle and sheep and plants wheat directly into native grass pastures.

The rest of the land, about an hour southwest of Amarillo, eventually will be planted in native grasses, too, says Grotegut, who’s seen water levels rise — though not enough to return to full irrigation of his land.

Most farmers aren’t transitioning fast enough as the water table drops “from the Panhandle damn near to the Oklahoma line,” he says. “Maybe they’re using the latest and greatest of equipment and technology in the field, but (that) will not totally offset the change that’s coming to them,”

HELP FOR FARMERS

Many farmers will need incentives and help to transition to grasslands.

The federal crop insurance and conservation programs often work at cross purposes: Farmers sometimes plant crops even if they’re likely to fail, because they’re covered by insurance. And cultivating land often is more profitable than taking government payments to preserve or restore grasslands.

From 2016 through mid-2021, fewer than 328,000 acres (132,737 hectares) were enrolled in the USDA’s Grasslands Conservation Reserve Program in Dust Bowl Zone counties, according to USDA data. Enrollment for 2021 ended last month, but the USDA has not released the most recent totals.

Although grasslands also can be enrolled in other programs, there was a big push this summer to enroll more in the CRP grasslands program, which allows grazing and was authorized in the 2014 Farm Bill, says Zach Ducheneaux, head of the USDA’s Farm Service Agency.

In Texas, fewer than 32,000 acres (12,950 hectares) were enrolled in Dust Bowl counties over the past five years, and 60% of the Dust Bowl counties had no land enrolled.

So the agency sharply increased payments this summer, to a minimum $15 per acre — higher in priority counties — after they were reduced by the Trump administration, Ducheneaux says.

In Bailey County, where Black lives and no land was enrolled in the grasslands program, payments went from $4 to $20 per acre.

But Black, who took a couple hundred acres (81 hectares) of native grasslands out of a federal conservation program last year to provide pasture for his cattle, says the higher payments won’t convince him to enroll. “I can make more money without it” and won’t be bound by any government restrictions, he says.

Bamert, from the seed company, says some farmers are planting native grasses on their own, rather than through government programs.

But the transition to grasslands and conservation also is hindered by an agricultural banking system that makes it difficult to obtain loans for anything other than conventional farming and equipment, as well as the need to pay off that equipment.

“If you give a producer a choice and flexibility, they’re going to engage in soil health practices,” says USDA’s Ducheneaux, who is advocating for change. “They’re not going to continue to stay stuck in that commodity cycle.”

Among farmers, ranchers and even municipalities, “there seems to be a real connecting of the dots … about water and soil stewardship,” and it’s driving cross-state conversations about solutions, says Kremen, from the Ogallala Water Coordinated Agriculture Project.

But farmers need programs that allow them to earn a living while they make the transition to grasslands over perhaps 15 years, she says.

“There’s a hunger for action that wasn’t there even five years ago,” because of the severity of the water loss, Kremen says. “What’s at stake is the vitality of communities that depend on this water and towns drying up and blowing away.”

Read more of AP’s climate coverage at http://www.apnews.com/Climate

The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute’s Department of Science Education. The AP is solely responsible for all content.

Drought has farmworkers dreaming of escape from California’s breadbasket

Los Angeles Times

Drought has farmworkers dreaming of escape from California’s breadbasket

Priscella Vega September 5, 2021

A truck rolls through nut trees almost ready for harvest near Cantua Creek. The drought in the Central Valley is taking its toll of farmworkers with reduced hours and jobs evaporating like the limited water resources.

Rosario Rodríguez never wanted to leave her hometown of Trigomil, Nayarit. She was surrounded by family and could quickly get to the nearest grocery store or clinic.

But love called, and she followed her then-boyfriend to Three Rocks — a speck in Fresno County where he worked in the fields.

At first life there reminded her of home in central Mexico — the enticing small-town feel, the lushness all around. The charm wore off as the reality of living in a rural town in Central California set in. Then the drought broke the spell.

“It was never my intention to come to this country,” Rodríguez said. “I was happy in Nayarit, but we got married and he brought me here. And so here I am.”

Rosario Rodríguez hold a picture of her parents, Herminia and Martin Rodriguez in her garage in Three Rocks.

For decades, farm labor has kept unincorporated communities alive throughout the Central Valley. But the drought is making it hard to stay. The dearth of essential resources — clean water, adequate housing and fair employment wages — has crippled towns that are easily overlooked and triggered a slow exodus to bigger places.

It can be seen in the dwindling number of people attending nonprofit-led workshops and meetings on agricultural worker rights, said Chucho Mendoza, an environmental and public health advocate who has worked with migrants and small farming families in the Central Valley for 25 years. The pandemic further hollowed out rural life.

In the Cantua Creek area, where pistachio and almond crops reign, some families are grappling with what’s next. Faced with a confluence of challenges, some are leaving; others are arguing over whether they should. Still others are determined to make it work here.

“They don’t know what to pinpoint but they’ll say, ‘We know something is wrong, but we don’t know what it is,'” Mendoza said. “Those who leave move to the next town but don’t realize hell is a lot bigger.”

The California Aqueduct brings water through Cantua Creek.

As the drought worsened, Rodríguez’s husband traveled farther and farther for work. She considered joining him in the field, but leaving her two teenager daughters alone at 3 a.m. felt dangerous. So she began baby-sitting for $25 a day.

Wishing a better future for her daughters, Rodríguez proposed moving to a “bigger” town like Kerman, population 15,000, where there were schools, churches, a fire station and doctors’ offices. But her husband didn’t want to leave. Why push their luck if they were making ends meet?

“It’s a decision we have to make together,” Rodríguez said reluctantly.

For most families in small Central Valley communities, where the residents are overwhelmingly Latino, the emotional toll of staying or fleeing to a new place is exacerbated by scarce finances, immigration status and the lack of a family safety net to fall back on.

Moments before Victor Avila watched his eldest daughter celebrate her quinceañera, he told his wife, Maria, about an idea. A visit to his brother-in-law in Bakersfield inspired him to imagine a life outside of the valley, away from the field work he’d known his whole life.

Maria Avila sits in her kitchen in Three Rocks.

Since he arrived here from Durango, Mexico, in the 1990s, Victor did everything he could on a farm. For 12 hours, six days a week, he exhausted his body harvesting tomatoes and cotton. He tried his hand at welding metals with a blowtorch. He even tested out new agricultural machines.

His dedication paid off. He no longer spends shifts in the blistering sun. Instead he sits inside a giant, crab-like harvesting machine he steers down rows of almond trees. It helps keep his respiratory problems at bay after years of inhaling dust.

But he knows fellow laborers have it worse. Some struggle finding steady work, with the rise of agricultural machines that no longer require as many bodies to work the harvest. A bill that requires employers to gradually increase minimum wage and pay employees time and a half by 2022 has prompted some to slash overtime.

Maria knew her husband was worried. To help with finances, she thought about applying at the local Carl’s Jr. about 30 minutes away, but it would mainly be night and weekend shifts. They both agreed she couldn’t leave their four children alone that long.

Amid a worsening drought, Victor knew he needed a backup plan. But when he told Maria about moving, she shot it down.

Their eldest daughter, a rising senior at Tranquillity High School, didn’t want to spend her final year adapting to a new campus. Moving away from the fields would also exclude her from a college scholarship, she said.

Maria said her husband has floated the idea about three more times. “I’m not leaving,” she told him.

But despite her reluctance, deep down Maria feels as though the drought is making leaving an inevitability. The dusty, discolored jungle gym at a run-down park across from her house is a daily reminder.

“In the end, I’ll go wherever,” she said.

About two miles from Rodríguez and Avila’s neighborhood, Lucia Salmeron Torres wishes her husband would agree to return one day to their beloved Jalisco, Mexico.

“This is the worst place to live in,” said Torres, 57.

Her home is situated on the edge of a rancher’s property where her husband works. She keeps the house tidy, even though there isn’t much inside. Portraits of Jesus next to artificial roses decorate the living room and hallway walls. She gardens for fun, but only when there aren’t workers nearby because she doesn’t like to feel under surveillance.

Lucia Salmeron Torres sits in her living room on the outskirts of Fresno County.

Her 5-year-old granddaughter and son’s pit bull are her only companions when her husband and five sons are at work. In years past, she could count on seeing them more during the rainy season. The drought changed that.

“Now they rarely come home” during the day, she said. “And they struggle with work because there aren’t enough hours.”

Torres first tried persuading her husband to move to the city when one of her sons began attending college. Then she wanted to join her son, Sergio, when he started working as a truck driver for an agricultural company and talked about moving. He had worked in the fields since he was 14, but he saw how the drought was choking the valley.

He knew it wasn’t as simple as packing up and leaving, however. He needed a better income to help provide for his daughter and help his parents.

“I always thought of a better future,” Sergio said. He used to get paid $11 an hour but now makes twice as much, he said.

With few community activities, Torres looks forward to the days when school administrators call for parent-teacher meetings. Or when nonprofit organizations host community workshops on healthful eating and how to be better parents.

On those days, she, Avila and Rodríguez organize a potluck among themselves. They stay as long as possible until they have to return to their routines. Torres and Rodríguez each pay about $5 for a ride from the county’s rural transit agency; Avila drives home in her car.

Irrigation pipes lay unused in Cantua Creek.

Still, Rodríguez hasn’t lost hope.

She believes they will move when her daughters are older and ready for college. Fresno City College and Fresno State are both about an hour away, and the commute can be dangerous in the winter when tule fog blankets the area.

Her daughters are looking to the future too. Her eldest, Bianca, is eager to explore places where she isn’t told to be cautious of the water and mindful of the drought.

“The only good thing about this place is that it’s pretty peaceful,” she said. “But it gets lonely and there’s not much to do out here, so it gets really boring.”

For now, Rodríguez is thinking of ways to remain busy. If she isn’t baby-sitting, she’ll take orders for homemade piñatas and make mosaic gelatin for parties. So far she’s had only a handful of orders.

“It’s not that we can’t be successful here,” she said. “But we have to fight for better.”