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Rocky shoreline at Pebble Beach on Kelleys Island with small waves rolling in and a soft orange sunset breaking through thick gray clouds over the open waters of Lake Erie. Alt text written using Perplexity AI.

Rights of Nature and the Lake Erie Bill of Rights

On February 26, 2019, citizens of Toledo, Ohio, passed legislation called the Lake Erie Bill of Rights (LEBOR), which created legal standing for nature in the state of Ohio by giving individual citizens the right to sue on behalf of the Lake Erie ecosystem. The initial motivation for organizing for the LEBOR came from residents who experienced the Toledo Water Crisis, a three-day period in August 2014 when residents could not drink their tap water due to a harmful algal bloom (HAB) that developed near a water intake station in the Maumee River. Microcystin, a toxin that can affect the liver and nervous system, was detected in the water. The main complaint of Toledoans for Safe Water (TFSW), the community group behind the LEBOR, was that little had been done to improve or protect Lake Erie water quality in the years since the crisis in 2014.

A bustling pedestrian street scene in a downtown shopping district, with people walking along a brick-paved walkway lined with leafy trees, outdoor café seating, and storefronts on both sides under overcast daylight. The scene shows the Church Street Marketplace in Burlington, Vermont, looking south from Bank Street. Alt text generated using Perplexity AI.

Looking for a US ‘climate haven’ away from disaster risks?

Southeast Michigan seemed like the perfect “climate haven.” “My family has owned my home since the ’60s. … Even when my dad was a kid and lived there, no floods, no floods, no floods, no floods. Until [2021],” one southeast Michigan resident told us. That June, a storm dumped more than 6 inches of rain on the region, overloading stormwater systems and flooding homes. That sense of living through unexpected and unprecedented disasters resonates with more Americans each year, we have found in our research into the past, present and future of risk and resilience. An analysis of federal disaster declarations for weather-related events puts more data behind the fears – the average number of disaster declarations has skyrocketed since 2000 to nearly twice that of the preceding 20-year period.

Aerial photograph of Minneapolis and St. Anthony Falls over the Stone Arch Bridge. Image via Unsplash by Nicole Geri.

On The Physicality of Hope

By Joanne Richardson. We depend on water to sustain us, yet threats to our biogeophysical and social systems, which directly impact our water, are numerous. However, people are not sitting idle. They are tackling these challenges with analysis and action, in ways that ignite hope.

Hope can grow in both grand and unassuming ways. The drama and magic of a new law, policy, or initiative may be fleeting, but these small, unromantic efforts are the bedrock of our water futures, shaping them into more just and sustainable paths.

The St. Louis River in Jay Cooke State Park in northern Minnesota. Image via Unsplash by Ricky Turner.

Rights of Nature and the St. Louis River Estuary

By Emily Levang. What if we related to water as our kin? I went to the St. Louis River estuary in early January together with my friend Cristin, who shares a dedication to care for this ecosystem. This estuary is the largest tributary to Lake Superior, which holds 10 percent of our entire world’s fresh surface water. As our world heads deeper into the water crisis, protecting this source of life is ever more vital. I try to begin with listening.

Detail from The Keeyask Dam site on the Nelson River, 2019. Image courtesy of Aaron Vincent Elkaim.

Stories to the Surface: Revealing the Impacts of Hydroelectric Development in Manitoba

By Caroline Fidan Tyler Doenmez. Manitoba, although known as one of Canada’s prairie provinces, is arguably more defined by its waterways. One story tells that the very name “Manitoba” was born from water, derived from the Cree words Manitou, “Great Spirit,” and wapow, “sacred water,” to describe the sound of waves crashing against an island on Lake Manitoba (Sinclair and Cariou 2011, 4–5). The Red and Assiniboine Rivers, two prominent entities of movement and memory, meet in the heart of the province’s capital city of Winnipeg. The northward-flowing Red River empties into Lake Winnipeg, the tenth-largest freshwater lake in the world. The northern area of the province is dappled and threaded with thousands of lakes, abundant rivers, and watersheds. It is here, in the north, that water has been harnessed and commodified as a source of energy by Manitoba Hydro for the past six decades. Today, according to provincial and Manitoba Hydro websites, a staggering 97 percent of electricity generated in Manitoba is derived from hydropower (Manitoba Hydro 2023a, 9).

Remains of a neighborhood destroyed by Hurricane Irma in Big Pine Key, Florida on Wednesday, September 20, 2017. Photo by J.T. Blatty / FEMA.

The Great Displacement: Climate Change and the Next American Migration by Jake Bittle

Abandoned homes with boarded up windows. Mold growing up the walls of houses flooded under five feet of water. The charred remnants of entire neighborhoods turned to ash. Fields of white cotton turned brown, the soil below choked with drought. In his new book, The Great Displacement: Climate Change and the Next American Migration, Jake Bittle paints a startling picture of the havoc climate change is wreaking upon various regions of our country. But more stark than the images of the landscapes destroyed are the stories of the humans who call these places home.

This sunset view of the Sonoran Desert shows the distinctive form of saguaro cacti. Image courtesy of Isaac Esposto.

A Small but Ultimate Presence

This year the heat of the desert grew, and the absence of water only became more stark against that rapidly rising contrast. Tucson, my home, set a new record of 11 consecutive days of temperatures exceeding 111 degrees Fahrenheit by the middle of July, 2023. In other areas of the state where I travel, such as the community of Ajo, we have experienced even hotter temperatures with multiple days’ highs hitting 114 degrees Fahrenheit. Even the saguaro/Ha:sañ, forever existing in this place, began to curl in on themselves in a concave dehydrated bow.[1] In Southern Arizona, where we write of the dry river beds and the wall corralling (some in, some out), it might appear paradoxical to highlight water—this small but ultimate presence—as the center of things.

Establishing the financial worth of a river’s fish is complicated when many people don’t sell the fish they catch. Image via Unsplash, by Jandira Sonnendeck.

How much is the world’s most productive river worth?

How much is the world’s most productive river worth? Here’s how experts estimate the value of nature: Southeast Asia’s Mekong may be the most important river in the world. Known as the “mother of waters,” it is home to the world’s largest inland fishery, and the huge amounts of sediments it transports feed some of the planet’s most fertile farmlands. Tens of millions of people depend on it for their livelihoods.

Northern Minnesota. Image courtesy of Lee Vue.

Where We Stand: The University of Minnesota and Dakhóta Treaty Lands

From the Authors: Reflecting on the three years since writing “Where We Stand,” the main thing that we continue to focus on is the need for accountability and reparative action for land theft. Land acknowledgements are even more commonplace than they were in 2020, but they are still often nothing more than nice words, rarely, if ever, accompanied by substantive action. The Daḳota and other Indigenous people want to know what you are willing to give up when you acknowledge you are on someone else’s land. When you give that land acknowledgement, what are you acknowledging exactly? Do you have even the basic knowledge of how the people you name were dispossessed of their land? Do you know the treaties that were used to provide legal justification for that dispossession? The fact that this article continues to be downloaded so frequently, and that we are still frequently asked to present this information to a wide variety of audiences both within and outside of the University of Minnesota, tells us that this knowledge is still far from as common as it should be…