Tropical storms are migrating out of the tropics, reaching their peak intensity in higher latitudes, where larger populations are concentrated, a new NOAA-led study published in the journal Nature says.
We’re back with more myths of curbside recycling. Shredded and crumpled paper create a lot of confusion for sorting machines — hard to believe, but true. Sorting mechanisms can’t distinguish crumpled paper from plastic, and ultimately, it just winds up in the trash.
The same goes for shredded paper. The small bits drop through the equipment like water through a colander, and then it drops into the trash piles heading to the landfills. So…?
The Data Center released its first Coastal Index this week. WWNO's Jack Hopke sat down with Executive Director Allison Plyer and Senior Research Fellow George Hobor to learn more.
Among the lessons learned, data since 2005 show many coastal communities, like Chauvin and Dulac, are losing residents. Those choosing to stay are more likely to be poor than those who leave. That means the remaining population is more vulnerable to events like storms, with fewer resources to help them bounce back after disaster.
Welcome to part two of the myths of recycling (here's part one in case you missed it).
Don’t keep a lid on it! That’s right. Plastic caps and lids are small and difficult to sort. They also keep liquids and other contaminants inside the plastic containers. So trash the lids and make sure your plastics are fully cleaned before placing them in your recycling bin.
Louisiana Highway 1, or just LA-1, is the longest continuous road in the state, running from the northeast corner down to Grand Isle. One particular stretch of it poses a particular challenge: as coastal erosion and sea level rise continue at rapid rates in southern Louisiana, LA-1 is more consistently flooded. This leaves residents and anyone who needs to travel the road inconvenienced at best, and in peril at worst.
Jonathan Henderson of New Orleans-based Gulf Restoration Network is flying Louisiana's coast looking for oil. As usual, he's found some.
"I just noticed something out of the corner of my eye that looks like a sheen that had some form to it," he says. "We're going to go take a closer look and see if there's a rainbow sheen."
It's a target-rich environment for Henderson, because more than 54,000 wells were planted in and off this coast — part of the 300,000 wells in the state. They're connected by thousands of miles of pipelines, all vulnerable to leaks.
New Orleans has had curbside recycling for a few years now, but many people are still skeptical that the city is actually recycling what we leave out for pick up. Do you think that everything you place into your recycling bin is going straight to the trash?
Melanie Driscoll, director of bird conservation for Audubon's Louisiana Coastal Initiative, examines the remains of a Forster's Tern found on Cat Island. The island shows scant signs of life four years after the BP oil spill.
As Sunday’s four-year anniversary of the BP oil spill approaches, environmental groups headed out into one of the areas most heavily oiled in the disaster. There, they looked at what effects that oil could be having on wetlands, and inspected the latest damage from coastal erosion, ongoing before and after the spill.
It takes about a half-hour on John Stubbs’ 22-foot fishing boat to get from the Myrtle Grove Marina in Plaquemines Parish to Bay Jimmy in Barataria Bay.
Louisiana's coast is disappearing at the rate of about a football field an hour. Since the 1930s, the Gulf of Mexico has swallowed up an area the size of Delaware.
You can see the water encroaching in Delacroix in St. Bernard Parish, less than an hour southeast of New Orleans. Here, a narrow crescent of land known locally as the "end of the world" is where the road abruptly comes to a dead end; in the distance, you see the tops of now-submerged trees.