Wildlife photographer Joe Moreno recently embarked on an extraordinary journey to Lake Clark National Park in Alaska, where he captured the intimate and majestic lives of the Alaska Peninsula brown bears, often known as “peninsular grizzlies.” These bears, among the largest of their kind, roam the lush forests and pristine rivers of the park, where an abundance of food sources like sedge grass, berries, and salmon sustains them. Moreno’s lens reveals a side of these formidable creatures that are rarely seen—a gentle and serene aspect that contrasts with their usual image. Lake Clark, now a sanctuary for these bears, has not always been so; forty years ago, the last bear was hunted in this region. Today, thanks to the efforts of lodge owners, park rangers, and guides, a unique relationship of trust and respect has been cultivated between humans and these wild animals, allowing photographers like Moreno to document them in their natural habitat.

Moreno’s dedication to following safety guidelines and earning the bears’ trust has resulted in a series of breathtaking photographs that provide a rare insight into the daily lives of these grizzlies. His images capture the bears as they engage in various behaviors—hunting, eating, and even play-fighting, with each bear appearing undisturbed by his presence. In one particularly poignant image, a bear named “Crimp Ear” is seen lounging on the beach, gazing sleepily into the camera, offering a glimpse of her unique personality. Moreno’s work not only showcases the grandeur of these creatures but also underscores the importance of the delicate relationship between humans and wildlife. His photographs are more than just images; they are a testament to the power of patience, respect, and the art of wildlife photography, making these grizzlies accessible to the world while preserving their natural dignity.

Alaska is renowned for its pristine wilderness, characterized by majestic mountains, dense forests, and an extensive network of rivers. However, this natural beauty has recently been marred by an alarming phenomenon: the transformation of some rivers into a murky, rusty orange hue. This drastic change was first observed by scientist Jon O’Donnell during a visit to a remote river in 2018, a stark contrast to the clear waters he had seen the previous year. This anomaly prompted an in-depth investigation, culminating in findings published in Nature Communications: Earth and Environment. The study reveals that climate change is the primary driver behind this unsettling transformation. As permafrost warms, it releases metals and acids into the rivers, contaminating the water. Satellite imagery has shown that these changes began as early as 2008, indicating a long-term trend visible even from space. O’Donnell and his team, including researchers from the National Park Service, U.S. Geological Survey, and University of California, Davis, found more and more orange rivers during their aerial surveys, highlighting the widespread nature of this issue.

Water testing revealed alarming levels of iron, zinc, nickel, copper, and cadmium, with pH levels dropping to as low as 2.3 from the normal 8. PhD student Taylor Evinger noted that the dominant metal causing the color change is iron, which oxidizes and gives the tributaries their rust color. These tributaries feed into larger rivers, creating a stark contrast between the orange and the still-clear waters. O’Donnell warned of the broader implications of this phenomenon. As the climate continues to warm, more permafrost is expected to thaw, potentially increasing the number of orange, polluted streams. This poses significant threats to water quality, drinking water supplies, and wildlife, particularly salmon populations in Alaska. Additionally, melting permafrost could release other ancient materials, such as plant DNA and frozen viruses, into the environment. The situation underscores the urgency for scientists to understand and mitigate the impacts of climate change on ecosystems and human life.

Climate changes are affecting entire communities around the globe, whether by reducing their living spaces, impacting their diet, and now even changing centuries of tradition and way of life. On such case study are the Inuit people, who have long been famous for their ability to adapt to extreme weather in the Arctic.

In the village of Pond Inlet, a community of 1,600 people is trying to adapt to changing climate between the mountains. Years ago, temperatures in winter dropped even below -50C (-58F), but nowadays, the average temperature reaches -35C (-31F) which affects the oceans on which the Inuit livelihood depends.

The community has long relied on the elderly members which shared their knowledge of predicting changes in the weather, but now these traditions could be lost as climate changes make these predictions inconsistent.
Since the Arctic region is warming faster than the rest of the world, the Inuit population fears not only a loss of their traditions but also of their living habitat and lifestyle.
The ice patches are melting, which also puts the inhabitants of the region in danger, leaving them exposed to threats and hunting accidents.

Inuit men hunting in traditional dress, Canada

“Everything we do involves the ocean and sea ice, which is highly affected by climate change,” says Natasha Simonee, a member of the Inuit community in Pond Inlet.

The Arctic, Earth’s northern polar region, is warming about twice as fast as the rest of the world – and is home to four million people who are experiencing a particularly rapid and disruptive form of climate change. Among these Arctic residents are many indigenous groups, including Inuit, Saami and Chukchi people, to name a few.

This includes time-honoured practices that few outside the Arctic have heard of. Alex Whiting – who is not Inuit but has lived in the Arctic for around 30 years – lives in the town of Kotzebue, or Qikiqtaġruk, in Alaska. Whiting explains that the traditional practice of burying fish in the ground and leaving it there to ferment, which extends the life of the foodstuff, is harder to do now than it once was. The technique relies on reliably cold temperatures throughout the winter.

“Those kind of skills are already becoming really tough to pass on to younger generations,” says Whiting.

He also notes how important it is to be able to transmit knowledge about the safe crossing of ice patches. Experienced locals know how to detect cracks in the ice based on its colour or texture, or via careful taps with an ice pick. But societal changes and shorter hunting seasons mean only a few expert seal hunters venture out into such conditions these days.

“There’s still a kid or two that is apprentice in that kind of stuff,” says Whiting. “It hasn’t completely died out.”

A research published in August 2021
Co-production of knowledge reveals loss of Indigenous hunting opportunities in the face of accelerating Arctic climate change

Profound sea ice loss is rapidly transforming coupled social-ecological Arctic marine systems. However, explicit impacts to harvesting of traditional resources for coastal Indigenous communities remain largely unquantified, particularly where the primary research questions are posed by the Indigenous community as a result of emerging approaches such as knowledge co-production. Here, we directly link reduced sea ice coverage to decreasing harvesting opportunities for ugruk (bearded seal, Erignathus barbatus) as a component of a partnership among a multidisciplinary team of scientists, Indigenous Elder Advisory Council, and sovereign Indigenous tribe in northwest Alaska, USA.

Science classes can be scary sometimes, especially if you’re not used to doing out-of-the-box experiments. One bold anatomy teacher thought of an alternative way to teach his student some real-life skills in his class called “World Discovery Seminar”.

Brian Mason from Alaska who is a teacher at Chugiak High School used a moose carcass in his class, one that he haunted and killed before, and showed the students how to debone and process the raw meat. But the class wasn’t only about survival skills, it was also a way to teach the pupils the anatomy of the animal and different traditions of the local indigenous hunters.

Mason’s class focuses on experiential learning as there is a lot of research behind this approach which proves that learning by doing is among the best learning methods.
Hunting for food is also a big part of the Alaskan community and many locals survive through winter by hunting for food, which offers them economic stability too. Mason used the Paideia Methodology in his class, which is a type of learning focused on stimulating critical thinking, active learning, and problem-solving.

Although deboning a moose in an anatomy class sounds like a very peculiar approach, the children from Chugiak High School raised to the challenge and enjoyed their teacher’s different approach.