Goose Lake is Gone (Again)

We’ve covered mysteries before on this website. Well, here’s one from 150 years ago:

The emigrants, coming west on the Applegate Trail to Oregon in the 1870s, were puzzled. The trail was, of course, a seemingly unending set of wagon-wheel ruts stretching from the jumping-off points in the Midwest over deserts and mountains and all sorts of obstacles that seemed insurmountable, but weren’t.

But this one seemed impossible. Had the wagons before them really plunged directly into the enormous lake that lay before them? The ruts led directly into the water, and there was no sign of them having come out again.

It was miles across – the other side lay almost invisible on the horizon, much too far to float a caulked wagon. And yes, it was deep – far too deep to ford.

There was nothing for it but a trip around the lake, since the western sky lay on the other side. And so, around they went – making a detour of something like 100 miles.

On the other side, they found the wagon ruts again. They emerged from the water and headed on westward toward the Cascades. Once arrived at the West Coast, none of the previous emigrants knew anything about any lake there.

Was it aliens who came down to Earth to put a lake where there was none before? Did the earlier emigrants have covered wagon submarine technology (and very short term memories)? Maybe it was a very localized, very short-term Ice Age – a glacier snuck down from the Cascades and into the valley in the middle of the night and then melted without anyone noticing. What about that?

SPOILER ALERT: None of those theories is true. Anyone who would come up with these ridiculous ideas should be ashamed of themselves. Oh, wait – I came up with them. Hmmm. What I meant to say is: those are all good theories that are worthy of scientific exploration. Unfortunately, VIIRS wasn’t around in the 1870s. Plus, this mystery has already been solved. As our source explains:

It remained a mystery until, several years later, a drought struck and the lake dried up again.

What we’re talking about is Goose Lake, which is at times the largest lake that’s at least partially in Oregon. (In terms of surface area, not volume.) It’s right on the border between Oregon and California. When Goose Lake is at its fullest, it has a surface area of 147 square miles (380 km2), but it’s only 26 ft (8 m) deep. Maybe, if the emigrants weren’t so cowardly, they could have walked across it (although they might have gotten stuck in the mud). It would have saved 100 miles of extra walking (although they might have gotten stuck in the mud).

As you are probably well aware, California and Oregon are under a long-lasting, extreme drought. So, if you live near Goose Lake, it’s probably no surprise that the lake has dried up again. And, since this is 2015, VIIRS can tell us something about it this time.

Have you ever played one of those “spot the differences” games? (Don’t play them at work, or you’ll never get anything done.) Well, here’s a “spot the differences” game you can play at work – at least if your work involves detecting evidence of drought.

Here’s what Goose Lake looked like three years ago, according to VIIRS Natural Color imagery:

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3 (20:40 UTC 15 July 2012)

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3 (20:40 UTC 15 July 2012)

Note that it’s not as dark in color as the other lakes because it is so shallow. Now, here’s the same scene just last week:

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3 (21:40 UTC 16 July 2015)

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3 (21:40 UTC 16 July 2015)

Notice anything different? Now, for this spot-the-differences game, we’re going to ignore clouds, because they are always going to be different between the two images, difficult to count, and irrelevant to this discussion. (Except that clouds can obscure the view of a lake and can cast shadows that look like lakes.)

Since I labelled Goose Lake on those images, you have no excuse for not spotting that difference. Besides, if you can’t see that 147 square miles of lake surface are missing from the second image, you have no hope to see any of the other differences.

I counted at least 20 lakes or reservoirs that are present in the 2012 image that have dried up and vanished in the 2015 image. Plus, there are about as many lakes or reservoirs that have noticeably shrunk since 2012. Can you spot them all? Can you see more than I did?

After you’ve declared yourself done, compare your results with mine:

Comparison of the above VIIRS Natural Color images of Goose Lake.

Comparison of the above VIIRS Natural Color images of Goose Lake.

As always, click on it to see the full resolution image. I’ve marked with red arrows those lakes that are visible in the 2012 image that are not visible in the 2015 image. Yellow arrows indicate the lake has lost surface area (but not totally vanished) between 2012 and 2015. And, there are a few spots that look like surface water visible in the 2015 image that are not present in 2012 – I’ve marked those with green arrows. There are a couple of lakes visible in the 2012 image that are covered by clouds in the 2015 image. Those are left unmarked. I’ve also labelled a burn scar left over from a pretty big wildfire in south-central Oregon visible in 2012 that has since disappeared. That’s the main non-lake, non-cloud related difference between the two images.

Most notably, Upper Alkali Lake (southeast of Goose Lake) dried up, which you should have noticed without me pointing it out. Drews Reservoir on the northwest side of Goose Lake in Oregon appears to have dried up, as does New Year Lake right across the border from Upper Alkali Lake in Nevada. Thompson Reservoir (the northernmost red arrow) looks bone dry and Gerber Reservoir (west of Drews Reservoir) has very little water left. The eastern half of Clear Lake Reservoir is now empty and the western half is significantly reduced in size. Three big reservoirs (lakes) on the southern edge of the image have also lost quite a bit of water (Trinity Lake, Shasta Lake and Eagle Lake).

Even if you don’t care that a bunch of salty, alkaline lakes in rural Jefferson (as they might prefer you to call it) have dried up, you should care about the reservoirs. And not just for the boating and other water recreation activities, which are now hazardous. When towns run out of water, prime agricultural land lays fallow, and Tom Selleck gets in trouble with the law, you know things are serious.

The reservoirs closer to central California are down quite a bit as well, and these impact a lot of people. Use your honed-in spot-the-difference skills in these VIIRS I-2 (0.865 µm) images from the same dates and times as the above images:

VIIRS I-2 image (20:40 UTC 15 July 2012)

VIIRS I-2 image (20:40 UTC 15 July 2012)

VIIRS I-2 image (21:40 UTC 16 July 2015)

VIIRS I-2 image (21:40 UTC 16 July 2015)

I-2 is one of the components of the Natural Color imagery (the green component). What makes it good for this purpose is that land and, particularly, vegetation are highly reflective at this wavelength, so they appear bright. Water is absorbing, so it appears black (or nearly so if the water’s dirty or shallow). It also has 375 m resolution at nadir. If you click to the full resolution versions of the above images, you can see that most of the reservoirs have lost quite a bit of surface area between 2012 and 2015.

If you’re too lazy, or have poor eyesight, click on this image below to better compare the two images:

Comparison of VIIRS I-2 images from the same dates and times as above

Comparison of VIIRS I-2 images from the same dates and times as above

One more point that needs to be made: 375 m resolution at nadir is good for weather satellites like VIIRS, but the fact that you can see the loss of water in these images is testimony to how bad this drought is!

As you may or may not know, the resolution of VIIRS in these images degrades from 375 m at nadir to 750 m at the edge of the swath. As a reasonable approximation, that’s means each pixel is a quarter mile to a half mile wide. That means each pixel of missing water represents between 40 and 160 acres. We’ll say 100 acres, given that these images were taken roughly halfway between nadir and edge of scan. If the water was only 1 foot deep in these pixels, that would be a loss of 100 acre-feet. That’s 32.5 million gallons of water. (By the way, the average household uses between 0.5 and 1 acre-foot per year in water.)

Multiply the number of pixels that have lost water by 100 to get the area in acres. Multiply that by the average depth of the water lost to get the volume in acre-feet. And then multiply that by 325,852 gallons per acre-foot and that’s a lot of gallons of missing water!

(In case you’re interested, this PDF document says the average depth of Goose Lake is 8 ft. At 147 sq. mi. of surface area, that’s 245 billion gallons of water gone, give or take.)

Germany’s Magic Sparkle

You may or may not have heard that a small town in Italy received 100 inches (250 cm; 2.5 m; 8⅓ feet; 8 x 10-17 parsecs) of snow in 18 hours just last week (5 March 2015). That’s a lot of snow! It’s more than what fell on İnebolu, Turkey back in the beginning of January. But, something else happened that week that is much more interesting.

All you skiers are asking, “What could be more interesting than 100 inches of fresh powder?” And all you weather-weenies are asking, “What could be more interesting than being buried under a monster snowstorm? I mean, that makes Buffalo look like the Atacama Desert!” The answer: well, you’ll have to read the rest of this post. Besides, VIIRS is incapable of measuring snow depth. (Visible and infrared wavelengths just don’t give you that kind of information.) So, looking at VIIRS imagery of that event isn’t that informative.

This is (or was, until I looked into it in more detail) another mystery. Not a spooky, middle-of-the-night mystery, but one out in broad daylight. (We can thus automatically rule out vampires.)

It started with a comparison between “True Color” and “Natural Color” images over Germany from 9 March 2015:

VIIRS True Color RGB composite of channels M-3, M-4 and M-5, taken 11:54 UTC 9 March 2015

VIIRS True Color RGB composite of channels M-3, M-4 and M-5, taken 11:54 UTC 9 March 2015.

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels M-5, M-7 and M-10, taken 11:54 UTC 9 March 2015

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels M-5, M-7 and M-10, taken 11:54 UTC 9 March 2015.

The point was to show, once again, how the Natural Color RGB composite can be used to differentiate snow from low clouds. That’s when I noticed it. Bright pixels (some white, some orange, some yellow, some peach-colored) in the Natural Color image, mostly over Bavaria. (Remember, you can click on the images, then click again, to see them in full resolution.) Thinking they might be fires, I plotted up our very own Fire Temperature RGB:

VIIRS Fire Temperature RGB composite of channels M-10, M-11 and M-12 from 11:54 UTC 9 March 2015

VIIRS Fire Temperature RGB composite of channels M-10, M-11 and M-12 from 11:54 UTC 9 March 2015.

I’ve gone ahead and drawn a white box around the area of interest. Let’s zoom in on that area for these (and future) images.

VIIRS True Color RGB (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015)

VIIRS True Color RGB (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015). Zoomed in and cropped to highlight the area of interest.

VIIRS Natural Color RGB (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015)

VIIRS Natural Color RGB (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015). Zoomed in and cropped to highlight the area of interest.

VIIRS Fire Temperature RGB (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015)

VIIRS Fire Temperature RGB (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015). Zoomed in and cropped to highlight the area of interest.

Now, these spots really show up. But, they’re not fires! Fires show up red, orange, yellow or white in the Fire Temperature composite (which is one of the benefits of it). They don’t appear pink or pastel blue. What the heck is going on?

Now, wait! Go back to the True Color image and look at it at full resolution. There are white spots right where the pastel pixels show up in the Fire Temperature image. (I didn’t notice initially, because white spots could be cloud, or snow, or sunglint.) This is another piece of evidence that suggests we’re not looking at fires.

For a fire to show up in True Color images, it would have to be about as hot as the surface of the sun and cover a significant portion of a 750-m pixel. Terrestrial fires don’t typically get that big or hot on the scale needed for VIIRS to see them at visible wavelengths. Now, fires don’t have to be that hot to show up in Natural Color images, but even then they appear red. Not white or peach-colored. If a fire was big enough and hot enough to show up in a True Color image, it would certainly show up in the high-resolution infrared (IR) channel (I-05, 11.45 µm), but it doesn’t:

VIIRS high-resolution IR (I-05) image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015)

VIIRS high-resolution IR (I-05) image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015).

You might be fooled, however, if you looked at the mid-wave IR (I-04, 3.7 µm) where these do look like hot spots:

VIIRS high-resolution midwave-IR (I-04) image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015)

VIIRS high-resolution midwave-IR (I-04) image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015).

What’s more amazing is I was able to see these bright spots all the way down to channel M-1 (0.412 µm), the shortest wavelength channel on VIIRS:

VIIRS "deep blue" visible (M-1) image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015)

VIIRS “deep blue” visible (M-1) image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015).

So, what do we know? Bright spots appear in all the bands where solar reflection contributes to the total radiance (except M-6 and M-9). I checked. (They don’t show up in M-6 [0.75 µm], because that channel is designed to saturate under any solar reflection so everything over land looks bright. They don’t show up in M-9 [1.38 µm] because solar radiation in that band is absorbed by water vapor and never makes it to the surface.) Hot spots do not coincide with these bright spots in the longer wavelength IR channels (above 4 µm).

What reflects a lot of radiation in the visible and near-IR but does not emit a lot in the longwave IR? Solar panels. That’s the answer to the mystery. VIIRS was able to see solar radiation reflecting off of a whole bunch of solar panels. That is the source of Germany’s “magic sparkle”.

Don’t believe me? First off, Germany is a world leader when it comes to producing electricity from solar panels. Solar farms (or “solar parks” auf Deutsch) are common – particularly in Bavaria, which produces the most solar power per capita of any German state.

Second: I was able to link specific solar parks with the bright spots in the above images using this website. (Not all of those solar parks show up in VIIRS, though. I’ll get to that.) And these solar parks can get quite big. Let’s take a look at a couple of average-sized solar parks on Google Maps: here and here. The brightest spot in the VIIRS Fire Temperature image (near 49° N, 11° E) matches up with this solar park, which is almost perfectly aligned with the VIIRS scans and perpendicular to the satellite track.

Third: it’s not just solar parks. A lot of people and businesses have solar panels on their roofs. Zoom in on Pfeffenhausen, and try to count the number of solar panels you see on buildings.

One more thing: if you think solar panels don’t reflect a lot of sunlight, you’re wrong. Solar power plants have been known reflect so much light they instantly incinerate birds*. (*This is not exactly true. See the update below.)

Another important detail is that all of the bright spots visible in the VIIRS images are a few degrees (in terms of satellite viewing angle) to the west of nadir. Given where the sun is in the sky this time of year (early March) and this time of day (noon) at this latitude (48° to 50° N), a lot of these solar panels are in the perfect position to reflect sunlight up to the satellite. But, not all of them. Some solar panels track the sun and move throughout the day. Other panels are fixed in place and don’t move. Only the solar panels in the right orientation relative to the satellite and the sun will be visible to VIIRS.

At these latitudes during the day, the sun is always to south and slightly to the west of the satellite. For the most part, solar panels to the east of the satellite will reflect light away from the satellite, which is why you don’t see any of those. If the panel is pointed too close to the horizon, or too close to zenith (or the sun is too high or too low in the sky), the sunlight will be reflected behind or ahead of the satellite and won’t be seen. You could say that this “sparkle” is actually another form of glint, like sun glint or moon glint – only this is “solar panel glint”.

Here’s a Natural Color image from the very next day (10 March 2015), when the satellite was a little bit further east and overhead a little bit earlier in the day:

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels M-5, M-7 and M-10 from 11:35 UTC 10 March 2015

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels M-5, M-7 and M-10 from 11:35 UTC 10 March 2015.

Notice the half-dozen-or-so bright spots over the Czech Republic. These are just west of the satellite track and in the same position relative to satellite and sun. (The bright spot near the borders of Austria and Slovakia matches up with this solar farm.) The bright spots over Germany are gone because they no longer line up with the sun and satellite geometry.

As for the pastel colors in the Natural Color and Fire Temperature RGBs, those are related to the proportional surface area of the solar panels relative to the size of each pixel as well as the background reflectivity of the ground surrounding the solar panels. The bright spots do generally appear more white in the high-resolution version of the Natural Color RGB from 9 March:

VIIRS high-resolution Natural Color (I-01, I-02, I-03) RGB image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015)

VIIRS high-resolution Natural Color (I-01, I-02, I-03) RGB image (11:54 UTC 9 March 2015).

See, we learned something today. Germany sparkles with green electricity and VIIRS can see it!

UPDATES (17 March 2015): Thanks to feedback from Renate B., who grew up in Bavaria and currently owns solar panels, we have this additional information: there is a push to add solar panels onto church roofs throughout Bavaria, since they tend to be the tallest buildings in town (not shaded by anything) and are typically positioned facing east, so the south-facing roof slopes are ideal for collecting sunlight. The hurdle is that churches are protected historical buildings that people don’t want to be damaged. Also, it’s not a coincidence that many solar parks have their solar panels facing southeast (and align with the VIIRS scan direction). They are more efficient at producing electricity in the morning, when the temperatures are lower, than they are in the afternoon when the panels are warmer. They face southeast to better capture the morning sun.

Also, to clarify (as pointed out by Ed S.): the solar power plant that incinerates birds generates electricity from a different mechanism than the photovoltaic (PV) arrays seen in these images from Germany. PV arrays (aka solar parks) convert direct sunlight to electricity. The “bird incinerator” uses a large array of mirrors to focus sunlight on a tower filled with water. The focused sunlight heats the water until it boils, generating steam that powers a turbine. Solar parks and solar panels on houses and churches do not cause birds to burst into flames.

Remote Islands IV: Where’s Waldo (Pitcairn)? Edition

Take a look at this VIIRS “Natural Color” image and see if you can find Pitcairn Island. It’s in there somewhere:

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3, taken 22:25 UTC 10 April 2014

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3, taken 22:25 UTC 10 April 2014

You’re definitely going to want to click through to the full resolution version. (Click on the image, then click again.) You won’t be able to see it otherwise. Take your time. Note: this is actually pretty similar to searching for fires.

Did you see it?

If you answered “no”: Good! That’s just what the early settlers of Pitcairn Island wanted: an island that no one could find! If you answered “yes”: I think you’re mistaken. You probably saw Henderson Island, which is bigger and easier to see.

Pitcairn is only 3.6 km across. That’s just 7 pixels in this composite of high-resolution (375 m at nadir; I-band) channels. It’s total land area is 4.6 km2. Henderson Island is 37.3 km2. There’s even a third island visible in this picture, but you need the eyes of an eagle to see it – Oeno at 0.65 km2. Look again and see if you see any green pixels.

If you give up, here’s the answer:

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3, taken at 22:25 UTC 10 April 2014

VIIRS Natural Color RGB composite of channels I-1, I-2 and I-3, taken at 22:25 UTC 10 April 2014. The visible islands are labelled.

Now, you may have just clicked to the full-resolution version and are now wondering if I’m right about Oeno Island. Is there really anything there? Yes. Just look at that part of the image zoomed in by 800%:

VIIRS Natural Color image (10 April 2014) zoomed in on Oeno Island

VIIRS Natural Color image (10 April 2014) zoomed in on Oeno Island

See those three green pixels (not counting the latitude line drawn on there) that are surrounded by lighter blue pixels? That’s Oeno. It is one of the smallest islands you can say that VIIRS “saw”. Here’s what it looks like from a really high-resolution satellite. The light blue pixels surrounding it are the surrounding reef and lagoon of the atoll.

So, why all the interest in a couple of tiny islands in a remote part of the Pacific Ocean? First of all, there are winter storms battering both coasts of the United States, so it’s nice to enjoy a little bit of escapism. Now you can fantasize about being on a tropical island instead of facing the reality of shoveling another 2 feet of snow. Second, it’s fun to look for little islands that can’t be seen with current geostationary satellites (although it will be interesting to see if the high-resolution [0.5 km] visible channel on Himawari will be able to see it; it might be too far east, though). Plus, it’s been over two years since I last looked at remote islands – there may a whole new generation of viewers interested in this stuff who never knew this was part of the blog. Third, I don’t have to write as much and you don’t have to read as much as I fill my blog post quota for the month.

However, to barely keep things on the topic of atmospheric science and satellite meteorology, I will note that, in the images above, you can see a string of clouds streaming to the northwest from both Pitcairn and Henderson Islands. This is the visible manifestation of fluid dynamics which we have discussed before.

If you’ve heard of Pitcairn Island prior to this, it’s probably because you heard of the Mutiny on the Bounty. A group of mutineers who didn’t want to be hanged for their crime settled on Pitcairn Island and burned their ships so they could never leave and, hopefully, never be found. That is the very definition of “getting away from it all”. (Pitcairn is also known to stamp collectors who seek the very rare stamps from the far corners of the world. Selling stamps to tourists is actually a significant part of their economy.)

Today, the island is home to ~50 people – all but two of which are direct descendents of the mutineers. Oeno and Henderson Islands are uninhabited. Henderson Island is a UNESCO World Heritage Site that has been largely untouched by mankind. Oeno Island is a favorite “get-away” spot for Pitcairn Islanders for whom an island of 50 people is just too crowded!

If you want to know more about Pitcairn or you have an hour of free time to use up, check out this documentary on the island, its history, and the people who make it their mission to visit one of the world’s most remote islands:

The Rise of the Paraguay Brings Down Paraguay

When was the last time you heard anything about Paraguay? Nope – they weren’t in the World Cup, that was Uruguay. (Paraguay actually finished last out of all South American teams when it came to World Cup qualifying. Sorry to remind you, Paraguayans.) A quick perusal of the web indicates that the country has a history of isolationism, so it may not come as a surprise that news out of Paraguay is few and far between.

For you non-Paraguayans in the audience: How many of you knew that Paraguay was the richest nation in South America in the mid-1800’s? Paraguay held that title right up to the point that they tried to keep Brazilian influence out of a civil war in Uruguay. That kick-started the War of the Triple Alliance, which ultimately killed more than half the population of Paraguay, strengthened Argentina as a nation, and is credited with bringing about the end of slavery in Brazil. Paraguay has never been the same since. It became the poorest country in the region – a title it has held, pretty much, through today. This has caused one reporter to say (in one of the links above) that, to Paraguayans, success is a prelude to danger.

When the national football team scores, “it makes us nervous and we panic.”

But, this isn’t a metaphor for the title of this post. The title refers to Paraguay: the River (Rio Paraguay), which has brought the worst flooding in decades to Paraguay: the Country, and displaced more than 200,000 Paraguayans. Flooding has also occurred on the Rio Paraná – the second longest river in South America – and has impacted hundreds of thousands of people in Brazil and Argentina. (You won’t get me to say that it has impacted a Brazilian people – because that is an awful, overused joke. Oh, wait. Ignore what I said I wasn’t going to say.)

Just look at what the flooding did to Iguazú Falls – one of the wonders of the world you never heard about – on the border between Argentina and Brazil:

There are more pictures of the flooding at the falls here. Iguazú Falls is located at the head of a narrow canyon called the Devil’s Throat, where water levels were reported to be 16 meters (52 feet) above normal! It is said that this is the worst flooding since 1982-1983. (That flood event killed 170 people.)

As shown before, VIIRS is capable of viewing widespread flooding. So, what does VIIRS tell us about this flood? As it turns out, both the “Natural Color” RGB composite and the “True Color” RGB composite provide unique information, so let’s take a closer look.

If you simply want to see where the water is, look no further than the “Natural Color” RGB composite. The “Natural Color” composite uses the high-resolution bands I-01 [0.64 µm; blue], I-02 [0.87 µm; green] and I-03 [1.61 µm; red]. At these wavelengths, water is not very reflective (it absorbs more than it reflects). So, with low reflectivity in all three channels, water appears nearly black. That allows one to identify water easily. Here’s a Natural Color image from a clear day before the worst of the flooding began (2 June 2014):

VIIRS "Natural Color" image, taken 17:28 UTC 2 June 2014

VIIRS "Natural Color" image, taken 17:28 UTC 2 June 2014

That’s Paraguay in the center of the image. Rio Paraguay is the north-south river that cuts Paraguay in half (OK, maybe 60-40). Rio Paraná is the big river that marks the eastern border between Paraguay and Argentina, and turns south after acquiring Rio Paraguay’s water. (Look for the big reservoir in the upper-right, and follow that river down to the bottom of the image, left of center.) Make sure you click on the image, then on the “3298 x 2345” link below the banner to see the full resolution version. Compare that with a similar image from the only clear day at the end of the month (30 June 2014):

VIIRS "Natural Color" image, taken 17:03 UTC 30 June 2014

VIIRS "Natural Color" image, taken 17:03 UTC 30 June 2014

At first glance, the most obvious flooding occurred along the Paraná in Argentina. But flooding is noticeable along the Rio Paraguay if we zoom in for a closer look. Here’s a “before” (2 June) and “after” (30 June) overlay for the area around Paraguay’s capital city, Asunción:

Drag the vertical bar over the images from left to right to compare the two. (If this “before/after” trick doesn’t work for you, try refreshing the page. It may not work at all if you’re using Google Chrome.) The flooding you see here near Asunción was associated with only a 2 m (6 ft) water rise.

Something interesting happens when we focus in on the Paraná at the Itaipú Reservoir, just upstream from Rio Iguazú:

VIIRS "Natural Color" images of Itaipu Reservoir, June 2014

VIIRS "Natural Color" images of Itaipu Reservoir, June 2014. These images have been brightened to highlight difference in reservoir color.

After the flooding, the reservoir no longer appears black. This is because the flooding washed an awful lot of dirt into the water. And it really shows up in the “True Color” RGB composite:

VIIRS "True Color" images of Itaipu Reservoir, June 2014

VIIRS "True Color" images of Itaipu Reservoir, June 2014.

The water appears more turquoise before the flood, and brown after the flood. This is because the True Color composite represents the true color of the objects in the image. It is made from channels in the blue [0.48 µm; M-3], green [0.55 µm; M-4] and red [0.67 µm; M-5] portions of the visible spectrum. Take a look again at the Iguazú Falls video above and notice how brown the water is. The True Color images capture this. The reason the water appears blue and not black in the Natural Color composite is that there is enough sediment in the water to make it reflective at 0.64 µm (the blue component of the image). The longer wavelengths in the green and red components are not sensitive to the sediment, whereas the shorter wavelengths in the True Color components are very sensitive to sediment. (This is the basis for Ocean Color retrievals.)

If we focus in on the Rio Paraná near where it meets the Rio Paraguay, we can see clearly that the Natural Color highlights where the flood waters are, and the True Color highlights the sediment in that water:

VIIRS Natural Color and True Color images of the Rio Parana, June 2014

VIIRS Natural Color and True Color images of the Rio Parana, June 2014

Unfortunately, floods on the Paraguay and Paraná rivers are not uncommon, as a resident of Asunción explains:

BONUS: The NOAA/STAR JPSS group has put together a website on the flooding in Paraguay that features my Natural Color images along with a number of other VIIRS-based products that are being developed for flood detection. A lot of people from a number of different research groups played a part in this!

Severe Weather in the Mesosphere

So far (*knock on wood*), it’s been a pretty quiet year for severe weather. If you only count tornadoes, there have been 81 tornado reports from 1 January to 4 April this year. (11 of those have come just this week.) This is a lot fewer than the previous three year average of 192 tornadoes by the end of March. For that, you can thank the dreaded, terrifying “Polar Vortex” you’ve heard so much about over the winter. Tornadoes don’t like to come out when it’s cold everywhere. (Although, there was a notable exception on 31 March 2014, when a tornado hit a farm in Minnesota when the area was under a blizzard warning.)

I just said that there have been 11 tornado reports this week. Eight of those came in the past 24 hours. At the southern end of the line that brought the tornadoes to Illinois, Missouri and Texas, the severe weather included golf ball-size hail and this:


That report came from the National Weather Service in Corpus Christi, TX and it was caused by non-tornadic straight-line winds in Orange Grove. Winds capable of ripping a shed out of the ground, combined with golf ball-sized hail – that’s one recipe for broken windows. And it’s not a pleasant way to be awakened at 4:30 in the morning.

A couple of hours earlier, VIIRS caught this severe storm as it was rapidly growing. Here’s what the storm looked like in the high-resolution infrared channel (I-5, 11.45 µm):

VIIRS high-resolution IR image (channel I-5), taken at 08:13 UTC 4 April 2013.

VIIRS high-resolution IR image (channel I-5), taken at 08:13 UTC 4 April 2013.

Make sure you click on the image, then on the “2999×2985” link below the banner to see the full resolution image, which, for some reason, is the only version where the colors display correctly.

The storm that hit Orange Grove is the southern-most storm, with what looks like a letter “C” imprinted on the top. (That kind of feature typically looks more like a “V” and makes this an “Enhanced-V” storm, which you can learn more about here. Enhanced-V storms are noted for their tendency to produce severe weather.) For those of you keeping score at home, the coldest pixel in this storm is 184.7 K (-88.5 °C).

Compare the image above with the Day/Night Band image below (from the same time):

VIIRS Day/Night Band image, taken at 18:13 UTC 4 April 2014

VIIRS Day/Night Band image, taken at 08:13 UTC 4 April 2014

There are a few interesting features in this image. For one, there’s a lot of lightning over Louisiana, Arkansas and Mississippi. (Look for the rectangular streaks.) There’s even some lighting visible where our “Enhanced-V” is. Two, it takes a lot of cloudiness to actually obscure city lights: only the thickest storm clouds appear to be capable of blocking out light from the surface. Three: there are a lot of boats out in the Gulf of Mexico at 3 o’clock in the morning (and a few oil rigs as well). And four: notice what appear to be concentric rings circling the location where our severe storm is with its enhanced-V.

In this image, there is no moonlight (we’re before first quarter, so the moon isn’t up when VIIRS passes over at night). The light we’re seeing in those ripples is caused by “airglow”, which we’ve seen before. And the ripples themselves may be similar to what is called a “mesospheric bore.” If you don’t want to get too technical, a mesospheric bore is when this happens in the mesosphere. They are related to – but not exactly analogous to – undular bores, which you can read more about here.

Unlike the situation described for the undular bore in that last link, the waves here are caused by our severe storm. To put it simply, we have convection that has formed in unstable air in the troposphere. This convection rises until it hits the tropopause, above which the air is stable. This puts a halt to the rising motion of the convection but, some of the air has enough momentum to make it in to the stratosphere. This is called the “overshooting top“, and is where our -88°C pixels are located. (Look for the pinkish pixels in the middle of the “C” in the full-resolution infrared image.) The force of this overshooting top creates waves in the stable layer of air above (the stratosphere) that propagate all the way up into the mesosphere. The mesosphere is where airglow takes place, and these waves impact the optical path length through the layer where light is emitted. This of course, impacts the amount of light we see. The end result: a group of concentric rings of airglow light surrounding our storm.

You could make the argument that the waves we see in the Day/Night Band image are not an example of a bore. Bores tend to be more linear and propagate in one direction. These waves are circular and appear to propagate in all directions out from a central point. It may be better to describe them as “internal buoyancy waves“, which are similar to what happens when you drop a pebble into a pond. Only, in this case the pebble is a parcel of air traveling upwards, and the surface of the water is a stable layer of air. Compare the pebble drop scenario with this video of a bore traveling upstream in a river to see the difference.

In fact, if you look closer at the Day/Night Band image, in the lower-right corner (over the Gulf of Mexico) there is another group of more linear waves and ripples in the airglow that may actually be from a bore. It’s hard to say for sure, though, without additional information such as temperature, local air density, pressure and wind speeds way up in that part of the mesosphere.

By the way, you can see mesospheric bores and other waves in the airglow if you have sensitive-enough camera, like the one that took this image:

Photograph of a mesospheric bore. Image courtesy T. Ashcraft and W. Lyons (WeatherVideoHD.TV)

Photograph of a mesospheric bore. Image courtesy T. Ashcraft and W. Lyons (WeatherVideoHD.TV)

And, if you’re interested, the Arecibo Observatory has a radar and optical equipment set up to look at these upper-atmosphere waves (scroll down to Panel 2 on this page). The effect of these waves on atmospheric energy transport is a hot topic of research.

Golf ball-sized hail at the Earth’s surface is related to energy transport 100 km up in the atmosphere!


NOTE: This post has been updated since it was first written to clarify that the circular waves are likely not evidence of a bore, as was originally implied. They are more likely internal buoyancy waves, which are also known as gravity waves. For more information, consult your local library.