From the air, many parts of the western Amazon still look like a vast sea of green, stretching as far as the eye can see. Yet this forest, the most diverse terrestrial ecosystem that has ever existed, faces an alarming reality: every day we are losing large chunks of the Amazon including key connections between the highlands of the Andes and the lowlands of the Amazonian plain.
The impacts of this forest loss are already being felt in faraway cities. Since last year, Bogotá, Colombia is rationing water because deforestation in the Andean foothills reduces the water loads of the “flying rivers” –streams of atmospheric moisture that rise in the Amazon and feed the Andes– and their reservoirs are not filling sufficiently to sustain the city’s water use. In Ecuador, less water has meant less hydroelectric power generation and widespread power outages throughout the country. The impacts of deforestation in the Amazon basin extend far beyond South America, altering weather patterns as far away as agricultural regions in the central United States or Siberia in Russia.
Right now, we are in a race to understand what forests being hotter, drier, wetter and/or more flammable will mean for wellbeing of people in the Amazon Basin and the forest that sustains them. As Director of Science at Conservación Amazónica- ACCA, a Peruvian organization with 25 years of work in conservation of Andean-Amazonian ecosystems, I coordinate on-the-ground research on the impacts of climate change on biodiversity. This work is carried out at three biological stations–Wayqecha, Manu and Los Amigos–strategically located along an altitudinal gradient, or climatic corridor, in southeastern Peru. The stations span from grasslands and cloud forests in the Andes down to the rainforests in the Amazonian lowlands, and are active hubs for research, teaching and conservation.
At the Wayqecha biological station, located at the highest elevation, Ruthmery Pillco and his team use advanced telemetry techniques to track spectacled bears and learn how they move through the cloud forest and grasslands above the tree line. At mid-elevation, at the Manu Biological Station, Juliana Morales collects insects that transmit leishmaniasis, known in Peru as uta, a potentially disfiguring and sometimes fatal disease that with climate change has spread to the southern United States. At lower elevations at Los Amigos biological station, Elena Chaboteaux measures how beetles tolerate increasing temperatures, and whether mercury, a toxic chemical used in nearby gold mining, might affect their ability to cope with the heat.
Across the 3,000-meter elevational gradient, these three scientists work together with a big group of colleagues to understand species’ ranges—whether they are insects or mammals—and how those distributions change with elevation. These data on species ranges, thermal tolerances, and contamination allow us to better understand current diversity patterns in these forests and model climate change scenarios.
While I marvel at this work in southeastern Peru, I dream of how to make it bigger and better. How can we attract a larger community of researchers from Peru, the rest of South America and the world? How can we expand this work to climate corridors along the Andean slopes in Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador and other parts of Peru? How can we build a coalition of researchers and local experts across the basin who will fight to keep these forests standing?
The Amazon is vast and we are short on time. To address climate change, conserve forests, and deepen our knowledge of the species that inhabit this region, we need people on the ground who are committed to collaborative science and transforming knowledge into action.
If you would like to join this effort, do science at the stations, propose new collaborations, share your knowledge, or work on getting this information into the hands of key decision makers, please feel free to contact me.
Corine Vriesendorp, Phd
Director of Science
Conservacion Amazonica ACCA-Peru
cvriesendorp@conservacionamazonica.org