Summers in the republic in north-eastern Siberia are always longer and hotter. However, climate change is also making itself felt through the melting of the permafrost – with dramatic consequences.
“There in Siberia, from the Stalin era to the 1950s, forests were cut down by camp prisoners. As a result, the permafrost was no longer covered and isolated by the plant layer, but lay there bare and exposed to the sun,” says Grigory Savvinov.
-Initially, the crater was just a fissure, 80 meters long and 30 meters wide.
-In 30 years he grew rapidly
-Today, the crater, which looks like a pointed egg from the air, is two and a half kilometers long and almost a kilometer wide.
People have to watch out for the fires several times a year. In spring, when the old, dry grass and branches easily catch fire, it spreads to the forest and sometimes to the villages. And later in the summer when the young green has dried up. Instead of destroying CO2, the burning forest then emits carbon dioxide. Many fires are not even extinguished
Climate change in Siberia: Permafrost is declining:
Temperatures are unusually high in Siberia
There you can observe the effects of climate change. The permafrost soils are thawing and turning into swamps, lakes are drying up. And that's just the short-term damage. In the long term, the Siberian soil releases greenhouse gases that are harmful to the climate. A feedback effect occurs: these gases amplify the greenhouse effect in the atmosphere. Melting is increasing!
Yamal Russia's far north: It's April, the sun is shining and it's hot outside... Today, Jamal writes different headlines: The Russian government wants to develop the oil and gas of the Arctic from here. And global warming is disrupting the everyday lives of Arctic residents.
Galina, the Nenzin, follows with a connoisseur's eye the nimble movements of her sisters, who put the household goods together.
When the tent and household goods are firmly strapped to the sled, the women ram poles into the snow and stretch ropes between them - as an enclosure for the herd of reindeer that the men are about to round up. She should be here any minute.
To get a sense of how permafrost thaw is changing the landscape, I took a drive out of Yakutsk with Nikolay Basharin, a thirty-two-year-old researcher at the Permafrost Institute. Our destination was Usun-Kyuyol, the village where Basharin grew up, eighty miles away. His family, like many in Yakutia, had a cellar dug into the permafrost, where they stored meat and jam and lake ice, which they melted for drinking water. “You live on it for all these years but never really fully understand it,” Basharin told me, explaining his decision to study permafrost science. We set off at dawn to catch the first ferry across the Lena River; because of the ever-changing effects of permafrost on soil structure, building a bridge has thus far proved unfeasible.