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The Regrowing Forests of the High Latitudes

Across the boreal north, the treeline is moving. Following it reveals a climate story more tangled than either hope or alarm allows.

Ingrid Halvorsen

· Tromsø · 2 min read

You can walk to the front line of climate change in an afternoon. Above Tromsø the birches thin, stunt, and stop — the treeline, ecology's cleanest boundary — except that the boundary no longer holds still. Resurvey the historic transects, as teams across Fennoscandia, Siberia, and Canada have been doing, and the line has climbed the slopes and crept toward the pole, in places by tens of metres a decade.

The mechanism is straightforward; the consequences are anything but. Trees are dark. A forest advancing across bright tundra lowers the land's albedo, absorbing heat that snow-covered ground would have reflected — a warming effect that can outweigh the carbon the new trees draw down. In the high latitudes, planting trees is not automatically cooling the planet, a finding that has quietly complicated a decade of afforestation arithmetic.

Below ground the ledger grows stranger. Advancing roots and warming soils stir microbial communities that have been metabolizing in slow motion for millennia; permafrost thaw releases old carbon even as new biomass accumulates above it. The boreal system is simultaneously sink and source, and which face it shows depends on the decade, the latitude, and the fire season — which now arrives further north than the models of the 2010s thought reasonable.

For the people of the treeline the shift is not a curve but a neighbourhood. Sámi herders describe winter pastures shrubbing over, the lichen their reindeer winter on shaded out by willow thickets; ice roads that organized a region's logistics carry weight a month less than their grandparents planned for. Traditional knowledge and satellite record, for the most part, agree — and where they differ, the field teams have learned to check the satellite first.

The regrowing north is neither a recovery story nor a catastrophe story, and that is precisely its scientific value. It is the planet running an experiment at continental scale on the coupling of ice, soil, forest, and air — with instruments finally good enough to watch. Humility about the result is not indecision. It is the finding.

Written by

Ingrid Halvorsen

Senior Correspondent, Climate & Energy

Ingrid has reported from research stations above the Arctic Circle and turbine fields in three oceans. Her beat is the physical economy — energy, ice, and infrastructure — reported in person.