The researchers observed unexpected, rapid “electron precipitation” from low-Earth orbit using the ELFIN mission, a pair of tiny satellites built and operated on the UCLA campus by undergraduate and graduate students guided by a small team of staff mentors.

By combining the ELFIN data with more distant observations from NASA’s THEMIS spacecraft, the scientists determined that the sudden downpour was caused by whistler waves, a type of electromagnetic wave that ripples through plasma in space and affects electrons in the Earth’s magnetosphere, causing them to “spill over” into the atmosphere.

Their findings, published March 25 in the journal Nature Communications, demonstrate that whistler waves are responsible for far more electron rain than current theories and space weather models predict.

“ELFIN is the first satellite to measure these super-fast electrons,” said Xiaojia Zhang, lead author and a researcher in UCLA’s department of Earth, planetary and space sciences. “The mission is yielding new insights due to its unique vantage point in the chain of events that produces them.”

Central to that chain of events is the near-Earth space environment, which is filled with charged particles orbiting in giant rings around the planet, called Van Allen radiation belts. Electrons in these belts travel in Slinky-like spirals that literally bounce between the Earth’s north and south poles. Under certain conditions, whistler waves are generated within the radiation belts, energizing and speeding up the electrons. This effectively stretches out the electrons’ travel path so much that they fall out of the belts and precipitate into the atmosphere, creating the electron rain.

One can imagine the Van Allen belts as a large reservoir filled with water — or, in this case, electrons, said Vassilis Angelopolous, a UCLA professor of space physics and ELFIN’s principal investigator. As the reservoir fills, water periodically spirals down into a relief drain to keep the basin from overflowing. But when large waves occur in the reservoir, the sloshing water spills over the edge, faster and in greater volume than the relief drainage. ELFIN, which is downstream of both flows, is able to properly measure the contributions from each.

The low-altitude electron rain measurements by ELFIN, combined with the THEMIS observations of whistler waves in space and sophisticated computer modeling, allowed the team to understand in detail the process by which the waves cause rapid torrents of electrons to flow into the atmosphere.

The findings are particularly important because current theories and space weather models, while accounting for other sources of electrons entering the atmosphere, do not predict this extra whistler wave-induced electron flow, which can affect Earth’s atmospheric chemistry, pose risks to spacecraft and damage low-orbiting satellites.

The researchers further showed that this type of radiation-belt electron loss to the atmosphere can increase significantly during geomagnetic storms, disturbances caused by enhanced solar activity that can affect near-Earth space and Earth’s magnetic environment.

“Although space is commonly thought to be separate from our upper atmosphere, the two are inextricably linked,” Angelopoulos said. “Understanding how they’re linked can benefit satellites and astronauts passing through the region, which are increasingly important for commerce, telecommunications and space tourism.”

Since its inception in 2013, more than 300 UCLA students have worked on ELFIN (Electron Losses and Fields investigation), which is funded by NASA and the National Science Foundation. The two microsatellites, each about the size of a loaf of bread and weighing roughly 8 pounds, were launched into orbit in 2018, and since then have been observing the activity of energetic electrons and helping scientists to better understand the effect of magnetic storms in near-Earth space. The satellites are operated from the UCLA Mission Operations Center on campus.

Senior author Matthias Nahrendorf, MD, PhD, an investigator in MGH’s Center for Systems Biology and The Richard Moerschner professor at the MGH Research Institute and Harvard Medical School, explains that the nervous system plays a role in controlling blood cell production through chemical messengers or neurotransmitters. “This is for instance important in people exposed to stress, where stress hormones — part of the ‘fight-or-flight’ response controlled by the sympathetic nervous system — may increase bone marrow activity and cardiovascular inflammation in response to the neurotransmitter noradrenaline,” he says. The sympathetic nerves have a counter player — the parasympathetic nerves, which slow down responses and bring about a state of calm to the body, mainly through the neurotransmitter acetylcholine.

Because acetylcholine can have a protective effect against inflammation and heart disease, the researchers studied this neurotransmitter in the bone marrow. “When we looked into how acetylcholine acts on the production of blood cells, we found that it does the expected — it reduces white blood cells, as opposed to noradrenaline, which increases them,” says Nahrendorf. “What was unexpected though was the source of the neurotransmitter acetylcholine.”

The team found no evidence in the bone marrow of the typical nerve fibers that are known to release acetylcholine. Instead, B cells, which are themselves a type of white blood cell (most known for making antibodies), supplied the acetylcholine in the bone marrow. “Thus, B cells counter inflammation — even in the heart and the arteries — via dampening white blood cell production in the bone marrow. Surprisingly, they use a neurotransmitter to do so,” says Nahrendorf.

Tapping into this process may help investigators develop strategies to block inflammation in cardiovascular conditions such as atherosclerosis. “Ultimately this may lead to new therapeutics that combat myocardial infarction, stroke, and heart failure,” says Nahrendorf.

Additional study authors include Maximilian J. Schloss, Maarten Hulsmans, David Rohde, I-Hsiu Lee, Nicolas Severe, Brody H. Foy, Fadi E. Pulous, Shuang Zhang, Konstantinos D. Kokkaliaris, Vanessa Frodermann, Gabriel Courties, Chongbo Yang, Yoshiko Iwamoto, Anders Steen Knudsen, Cameron S. McAlpine, Masahiro Yamazoe, Stephen P. Schmidt, Gregory R. Wojtkiewicz, Gustavo Santos Masson, Karin Gustafsson, Diane Capen, Dennis Brown, John M. Higgins, David T. Scadden, Peter Libby, Filip K. Swirski, and Kamila Naxerova.

This work was supported in part by the National Heart Lung and Blood Institute at the National Institutes of Health (grant HL142494) and the MGH Research Scholar program.

Story Source:

Materials provided by Massachusetts General Hospital. Note: Content may be edited for style and length.

The wave of tree deaths on Mammoth Mountain, which lies within one of the nation’s largest active volcanic systems, prompted scientists to start monitoring the volcano’s emissions more closely.

Now, researchers led by Stanford University geologist George Hilley have made a surprising discovery in the long-running record: The ebb and flow of carbon dioxide emissions from Mammoth Mountain are strongly linked to the weight of snow and ice atop the Sierra Nevada, and to the amount of water that percolates from ground level down into the volcano’s plumbing.

“This really shows how the solid Earth is coupled to climate and the things that go on at the surface,” said Hilley, professor of geological sciences in Stanford’s School of Earth, Energy & Environmental Sciences (Stanford Earth). “Droughts can change the way in which volcanoes breathe.”

The research, published March 9 in Geophysical Research Letters, comes amid a dry winter that has left California snowpack well below average for this time of year, with less than a week remaining in the state’s wet season and no major snowstorms in the forecast.

By the end of this century, state officials predict the Sierra Nevada snowpack will decline by 48 to 65 percent from the historical April 1 average. “Changes in Earth’s hydrology due to climate change could actually impact something like the tempo at which gases are emitted from volcanic systems,” Hilley said.

Horseshoe Lake

Hilley and coauthors analyzed measurements of carbon dioxide emissions taken every 30 minutes for six years from Horseshoe Lake, the best-studied tree kill area on Mammoth Mountain. The mountain rises along the southwest rim of Long Valley Caldera, a crater formed by a supervolcano eruption 760,000 years ago.

The results reveal a persistent 20 percent reduction in the amount of carbon dioxide seeping up from the ground during the spring of 2017. The downshift coincides with the region’s emergence from intense drought and the pileup of the biggest Sierra Nevada snowpack in decades.

The study builds upon research by USGS volcanologist Jennifer Lewicki showing that carbon dioxide emissions in the Horseshoe Lake tree-kill area changed seasonally and across multiple years for reasons unrelated to a brewing eruption.

Seeking an explanation for these variations, Lewicki and Hilley — with coauthor Curtis Baden of Stanford — developed mathematical models to test out plausible mechanisms. Snowmelt and rainfall can wash away carbon dioxide that might otherwise seep from the ground, for example. But their calculations show Mammoth Mountain receives far too little precipitation to account for the low springtime CO₂ levels observed in 2017.

The most likely explanation for the seasonal changes in Mammoth Mountain’s carbon dioxide emissions has to do with an underground crack, or fault, which to a trained eye is evident in the vegetation patterns and topography of the landscape. Changes in the distribution of stress across the whole mountain range seem to open and close the fault like a valve, or like the tiny gaps between old floorboards that flex under shifting weight.

Using GPS data and snow depth measurements, the authors found compressive force on the fault between 2014 and 2020 generally peaked in winter as snowpack accumulated across the Sierra Nevada and eased during snow-free summer months. Carbon dioxide emission levels dipped during periods when the weight of snow and water in the mountains flexed Earth’s crust, squeezing together the rocks on either side of the Mammoth Mountain fault.

One limitation of the study is that it does not provide a physics-based model of the fault’s movement and how gas flows through it. “We’re using stress changes as proxies for the opening and closing of a conduit,” Hilley said. “An interesting study would run a three-dimensional model of gas transport through a conduit that you could actually open and close, and then run that model many times to see if its predictions quantitatively match the carbon dioxide measurements we’re making.”

Predicting future eruptions

The ability to distinguish between CO₂ fluctuations driven by climate from those driven by an impending eruption will enable better hazard forecasts, which are based partly on signs that rising magma is triggering earthquakes, deforming the ground surface or ushering gases upward. “The alignment of all three of those is generally a clue that an eruption might be about to happen,” Hilley said.

For decades, ground deformation and seismicity around some of the United States’ active volcanoes have been monitored continuously using GPS and satellites, and scientists can view the data in close to real time. But they have a murkier view on volcanic gas. “In the past, at most volcanoes, scientists had to go into a volcanic area in advance of an eruption, or even between eruptions, and go collect this gas for later analysis. It’s real Indiana Jones-type stuff,” said Hilley.

The difficulty of collecting volcanic gases has resulted in limited records, sometimes with only a single snapshot of a volcano’s degassing in any given year, which makes it challenging to detect changes that may warn of an eruption — or to understand patterns linked to Earth’s climate system.

The new study offers a glimpse of insights to come as scientists gain access to more volcanic emission data, thanks in part to the development of less expensive and more durable instruments.

“The hope is, in the next couple years, we can have a record of what the gas is doing in near real time,” Hilley said. “When you look in detail, you can see there are seasonal fluctuations that probably have nothing to do with the actual volcanic state.”

So when researchers from the lab of University of Michigan aerosol scientist Kerri Pratt collected aerosols from the Arctic atmosphere during summer 2015, Rachel Kirpes, then a doctoral student, discovered a curious thing: Aerosolized ammonium sulfate particles didn’t look like typical liquid aerosols.

Working with fellow aerosol scientist Andrew Ault, Kirpes discovered that ammonium sulfate particles, which should have been liquid, were actually solid. The team’s results are published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

Solid aerosols can change how clouds form in the Arctic. And, as the Arctic loses ice, researchers expect to see more of these unique particles formed from oceanic emissions combined with ammonia from birds, which will impact cloud formation and climate. Additionally, understanding the characteristics of aerosols in the atmosphere is critical for improving the ability of climate models to predict current and future climate in the Arctic and beyond.

“The Arctic is warming faster than anywhere else in the world. As we have more emissions from open water in the atmosphere, these types of particles could become more important,” said Pratt, associate professor of chemistry, and earth and environmental sciences. “These types of observations are so critical because we have so few observations to even evaluate the accuracy of models of the Arctic atmosphere.

“With so few observations, sometimes you get surprises like this when you make measurements. These particles didn’t look like anything we had ever seen in the literature, in the Arctic, or anywhere else in the world.”

The aerosols observed in the study were up to 400 nanometers, or about 300 times smaller than the diameter of a human hair. Ault, associate professor of chemistry, says that aerosols in the Arctic are typically assumed to be liquid.

Once the relative humidity of the atmosphere reaches 80% — about the level of a humid day — the particle becomes liquid. When you dry the aerosol back out, it doesn’t turn into a solid until the relative humidity is about 35%-40%. Because the air over the Arctic Ocean — or any ocean — is humid, researchers expect to see liquid aerosols.

“But what we saw is a pretty new phenomenon where a small particle collides with our droplets when it’s below 80% humidity, but above 40% humidity. Essentially, this provides a surface for the aerosol to solidify and become a solid at a higher relative humidity than you would have expected,” Ault said.

“These particles were much more like a marble than a droplet. That’s really important, particularly in a region where there haven’t been a lot of measurements because those particles can eventually end up acting as the seeds of clouds or having reactions happen on them.”

Additionally, the researchers say, the size, composition and phase of atmospheric aerosols impact climate change through water uptake and cloud formation.

“It’s our job to keep helping modelers refine their models,” Ault said. “It’s not that the models are wrong, but they always need more new information as events on the ground change, and what we saw was something completely unexpected.”

Pratt’s team collected aerosols in August-September 2015 in Utqia?vik, the northernmost point of Alaska. To do this, they used what’s called a multistage impactor, a device that has several stages that collect particles according to their size. Kirpes later analyzed these particles in Ault’s lab using microscopy and spectroscopy techniques that can examine the composition and phase of particles less than 100 nanometers in size.

“If we were to go back several decades when there was ice near the shore, even in August and September, we would not be observing these particles. We’re observing the consequences of this climate already changing,” Pratt said. “We need to have the reality captured in models that simulate clouds and the atmosphere, which are critical for understanding the energy budget of the Arctic atmosphere, for this place that is changing faster than anywhere else.”

Findings from a randomized controlled crossover study led by Naima Covassin, Ph.D., a cardiovascular medicine researcher at Mayo Clinic, show that lack of sufficient sleep led to a 9% increase in total abdominal fat area and an 11% increase in abdominal visceral fat, compared to control sleep. Visceral fat is deposited deep inside the abdomen around internal organs and is strongly linked to cardiac and metabolic diseases.

The findings are published in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology, and the study was funded by the National Heart, Lung and Blood Institute.

Lack of sufficient sleep is often a behavior choice, and this choice has become increasingly pervasive. More than one-third of adults in the U.S. routinely do not get enough sleep, in part due to shift work, and smart devices and social networks being used during traditional sleep times. Also, people tend to eat more during longer waking hours without increasing physical activity.

“Our findings show that shortened sleep, even in young, healthy and relatively lean subjects, is associated with an increase in calorie intake, a very small increase in weight, and a significant increase in fat accumulation inside the belly,” says Virend Somers, M.D., Ph.D., the Alice Sheets Marriott Professor of Cardiovascular Medicine, and principal investigator of the study.

“Normally, fat is preferentially deposited subcutaneously or under the skin. However, the inadequate sleep appears to redirect fat to the more dangerous visceral compartment. Importantly, although during recovery sleep there was a decrease in calorie intake and weight, visceral fat continued to increase. This suggests that inadequate sleep is a previously unrecognized trigger for visceral fat deposition, and that catch-up sleep, at least in the short term, does not reverse the visceral fat accumulation. In the long term, these findings implicate inadequate sleep as a contributor to the epidemics of obesity, cardiovascular and metabolic diseases,” says Dr. Somers.

The study cohort consisted of 12 healthy people who were not obese, each spending two 21-day sessions in the inpatient setting. Participants were randomly assigned to the control (normal sleep) group or restricted sleep group during one session and the opposite during the next session, after a three-month washout period. Each group had access to free choice of food throughout the study. Researchers monitored and measured energy intake; energy expenditure; body weight; body composition; fat distribution, including visceral fat or fat inside the belly; and circulating appetite biomarkers.

The first four days were an acclimation period. During this time, all participants were allowed nine hours in bed to sleep. For the following two weeks, the restricted sleep group was allowed four hours of sleep and the control group maintained with nine hours. This was followed by three days and nights of recovery with nine hours in bed for both groups.

The participants consumed more than 300 extra calories per day during sleep restriction, eating approximately 13% more protein and 17% more fat, compared to the acclimation stage. That increase in consumption was highest in the early days of sleep deprivation and then tapered off to starting levels during the recovery period. Energy expenditure stayed mostly the same throughout.

“The visceral fat accumulation was only detected by CT scan and would otherwise have been missed, especially since the increase in weight was quite modest — only about a pound,” Dr. Covassin says. “Measures of weight alone would be falsely reassuring in terms of the health consequences of inadequate sleep. Also concerning are the potential effects of repeated periods of inadequate sleep in terms of progressive and cumulative increases in visceral fat over several years.”

Dr. Somers says behavioral interventions, such as increased exercise and healthy food choices, need to be considered for people who cannot easily avoid sleep disruption, such as shift workers. More study is needed to determine how these findings in healthy young people relate to people at higher risk, such as those who are already obese, or have metabolic syndrome or diabetes.

Story Source:

Materials provided by Mayo Clinic. Original written by Terri Malloy. Note: Content may be edited for style and length.