Since the 1850s, plowing and clear-cutting in modern agriculture have increased how fast soil erodes in the Upper Mississippi River Valley. Across the globe, farming strips soil up to 100 times faster than natural processes. It also removes farmable land and clogs waterways, threatening long-term environmental sustainability. However, scientists in the past have struggled to separate the effects of land-use changes from the transition out of the last ice age over the past 20,000 years. 

To determine whether current farming practices are sustainable, researchers from Minnesota recently measured the speed at which soil eroded during the ice age transition and compared it with modern agricultural erosion. They focused on the Trout Creek tributary of the Mississippi River. This tributary has 2 step-like formations, or terraces, on its bank that represent past floodplains before the river eroded to its current level. 

The oldest, upper terrace is about 14 meters (50 feet) above the lower terrace, which is about 8 meters (26 feet) above the modern floodplain. Scientists studying nearby areas have suggested that the terraces contain sediment from the last ice age, 20,000 years ago, referred to as the Last Glacial Maximum, to today. 

In the upper terrace, the researchers pushed an empty cylinder into the ground, like a straw into a layer cake, to collect a cylindrical sample of sediments about 4 centimeters (1.5 inches) wide and 6 meters (20 feet) deep, called a sediment core. They collected slices of this core from 2 meters (6 feet) and 6 meters (20 feet) to find the terrace’s age. 

Some grains in the sediment trap electrons while buried and release them when exposed to light. So the team shone light on the sediment slices to stimulate these electrons and measure the intensity of light emitted, known as their optically stimulated luminescence. Brighter light emissions indicate the sediment is older and was buried for a longer period of time. Using this method, they confirmed that the deep sediment slice was 22,000 years old, and the shallow sediment slice was 20,000 years old, dating the terrace back to the Last Glacial Maximum.

Next, the team drilled into the upper terrace with an auger to collect 25-centimeter (10-inch) wide plastic tubes of sediment. They pulled 4 samples from 0 to 2 meters (0 to 6 feet), and 1 sample from 6 meters (20 feet) deep. They explained that minerals in the sediment called quartz produce the radioactive form of the element beryllium, known as ¹⁰Be, when exposed to the Sun, so low ¹⁰Be means the sediment was buried quickly and had little sun exposure. The team measured the concentration of ¹⁰Be in each sediment sample and used an online calculator to estimate how quickly it eroded. The researchers calculated that during the Last Glacial Maximum, 0.073 millimeters (0.003 inches) of surface sediment were removed per year.

The researchers collected similar samples from the lower terrace and used optically stimulated luminescence to determine that it was between 22,000 and 14,000 years old. This terrace was the floodplain during the transition out of the Last Glacial Maximum, or deglacial period, where temperatures warmed and permafrost retreated. They measured the concentration of ¹⁰Be in samples from this terrace and determined that 0.049 millimeters (0.002 inches) of surface sediment were removed per year. 

Finally, the researchers measured ¹⁰Be in a sediment sample from the modern floodplain, deposited between 14,00 years ago and today. They found that the sediment had eroded 0.053 millimeters (0.002 inches) per year during that interval, at a rate slower than it had during the glacial period, but similar to the deglacial period. 

The researchers compared their findings to the average soil loss caused by modern agriculture, as reported by 4 previous scientists studying the area. They saw that modern farming removes an average of 0.60 millimeters (0.02 inches) of soil per year, which is 8 to 12 times greater than all the natural erosion rates they calculated. 

They concluded that the recent spike in soil loss from agriculture greatly exceeds that caused by the largest natural climate transition in recent Earth history. Human-driven erosion shows an upward “hockey stick” trend like the one seen in global temperatures, suggesting that similar trends could exist throughout Earth systems. The team concluded that modern agricultural practices aren’t currently sustainable. While measures like native plant reintroduction can help curb this trend, more research is required to determine how best to limit long-term erosion.

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Temperatures in the Arctic are increasing at a rate 4 times faster than the average global temperature. Scientists have documented the global effects of climate change, but there are still regions where these effects are less well known. This is the case for freshwater ecosystems in the Arctic.  

When the ground has been permanently frozen for 2 years, scientists call it permafrost. Permafrost contains soil, sand, rocks, and organic matter held together by ice. As temperatures rise, permafrost thaws, which can change groundwater flow paths. It can also alter a stream’s temperature, flow patterns, and nutrient loads by introducing new material from the permafrost.  

To determine how thawing permafrost affects Arctic ecosystems, scientists from the U.S. Geological Survey recently studied 10 headwater streams within the Brooks Range in the Noatak National Preserve of Alaska. The scientists studied streams with different amounts of permafrost and ice to test whether connections exist between permafrost, food webs, and populations of fish called the Dolly Varden and Arctic Graylings. They focused on these 2 species of fish because their migrations often indicate ecological shifts in the area.    

The scientists collected fish from the streams by temporarily stunning them, using a method called electrofishing, or by catching them in minnow traps. They manually identified each species they collected, then froze the fish and shipped them to a lab. Once in the lab, the scientists measured the length of each fish and used documented growth patterns to estimate its biomass. To calculate fish abundances, they divided their total biomass by the time spent electrofishing or trapping. Finally, they measured the energy density of each fish by burning it in a device called a bomb calorimeter. 

At each stream, the scientists took manual temperature measurements and deployed loggers that recorded the temperature every 15 minutes. They also deployed equipment at the bottom of each stream to record water pressure in 15-minute intervals and converted the data to depth, since pressure increases with depth. Then, they used wading rods to measure how much water was flowing through each stream at a given spot. 

They combined the depth and wading rod data to determine the flow rate of water in the streams over time. They used these data to identify unstable streams where water rose and fell rapidly. They also collected water samples from each stream and measured their nutrient concentrations, including dissolved organic carbon, nitrogen, and phosphorus, to determine water quality.   

Finally, they measured 2 types of smaller organisms that allow energy to flow through the food web to the fish, called microbial biofilms and macroinvertebrates. They used a hand-held device to estimate the types and amounts of biofilms, and nets to collect macroinvertebrates.

Once they had compiled these data, the team conducted a statistical analysis to compare the studied parameters and fish populations to the extent of permafrost in each area. They found that streams with more permafrost in the area had warmer temperatures, because the permafrost prevented water from infiltrating the soil to cool off. The streams with warmer temperatures, in turn, had lower abundances and biomass of Dolly Varden fish and Arctic Grayling with lower energy densities. They suggested that these results meant that the high temperatures had pushed the fish above their optimum temperature range. 

They also learned that the limited infiltration in permafrost areas caused rainfall to flow straight into the stream. This process created instability as the stream levels rose and fell rapidly. Fish in these unstable streams had lower energy densities, likely due to the harsher environment. 

Areas with greater permafrost also had higher concentrations of dissolved organic carbon and phosphorus, which stimulated the formation of biofilms at the bottom of the food chain. They noted that areas with more biofilms also had more macroinvertebrates and more Dolly Varden biomass. Since the Dolly Varden eats macroinvertebrates, this finding suggested that the lowest levels of the food web shape the health of species higher up. This is called the bottom-up effect, and means that areas with more biofilms and macroinvertebrates will likely have healthier and larger fish populations.  

The scientists explained that knowing how these factors influence Arctic fish populations can help researchers understand how thawing permafrost might affect Arctic ecosystems in the future. They anticipated that their data could help future researchers predict how these and other ecosystems will be impacted by changing landscape dynamics caused by global warming. 

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