More than a million years ago, the island of Java looked very different from the busy, densely populated place we know today. Vast mangrove forests spread along muddy coastlines. Freshwater swamps stretched inland. Grasslands burned during dry seasons, while volcanic mountains rose in the distance beneath shifting tropical skies. Hidden within these ancient landscapes were animals that no longer exist and environments that shaped some of the earliest chapters of human history in Southeast Asia. A recent study by Harsanti Morley of Palynova Ltd and Robert Morley, who is a research associate at Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, has opened an extraordinary window into that vanished world. By examining microscopic grains of fossil pollen and spores preserved in ancient rocks from Central Java, the researchers reconstructed ecosystems that existed during the early Pleistocene, a period beginning more than two million years ago. Their work reveals what the landscape looked like, and also how climate, sea levels, vegetation, and wildlife changed through time.

Deep in the Amazon rainforest of southeastern Peru, one of the world’s most elusive wild cats slips silently through the trees. Smaller than a jaguar and far less famous than a tiger, the margay is a master of the canopy, moving through tangled branches with extraordinary agility. For decades, scientists have struggled to understand this mysterious feline because it is rarely seen, mostly active at night, and equally comfortable on the ground and high above it. Now, a new study conducted by Dr. Samantha Zwicker of Hoja Nueva, a conservation nonprofit rooted in Madre de Dios, Peru, and colleagues, is shedding light on the hidden world of the margay in the Madre de Dios region of Peru. By combining ground cameras with lower-canopy cameras placed at natural margay choke points, the team captured both sides of cats moving up and down trees – a practical, lower-cost alternative to labor-intensive upper-canopy surveys.

Lors d’une journée d’été étouffante, la plupart d’entre nous remarquent les effets évidents de la chaleur. Nous nous sentons plus lents, plus irritables et impatients d’échapper au soleil. Ce qui est moins visible, c’est la manière dont ces mêmes conditions modifient discrètement notre comportement au volant. Une étude récente dirigée par le professeur José Ignacio Nazif-Muñoz de l’Université de Sherbrooke, en collaboration avec le professeur Jose Guillermo Cedeño Laurent de l’Université Rutgers, explore ce lien caché, révélant comment les vagues de chaleur et les modèles thermiques urbains influencent la sécurité routière dans cinq villes du Québec. Les résultats rappellent opportunément que le changement climatique n’est pas seulement un enjeu environnemental, mais aussi une question de sécurité publique qui touche la vie quotidienne de manière inattendue.

On a sweltering summer day, most of us notice the obvious effects of heat. We feel slower, more irritable, and eager to escape the sun. What is less obvious is how these same conditions quietly reshape our behavior behind the wheel. A recent study led by Prof. José Ignacio Nazif-Muñoz of the University of Sherbrooke in collaboration with Prof. Jose Guillermo Cedeño Laurent of Rutgers University explores this hidden connection, revealing how heatwaves and urban heat patterns influence road safety across five cities in Québec. The findings offer a timely reminder that climate change is not only an environmental issue but also a public safety concern that touches everyday life in unexpected ways.

The story of climate change is often told through numbers. Rising temperatures, increasing atmospheric carbon dioxide, and tightening timelines toward global climate targets dominate headlines. Yet behind these numbers lies a quieter, more complex story of engineering innovation. It is a story about how we might redesign industrial systems to reduce emissions without dismantling the infrastructure that modern life depends on. At the center of this effort is carbon capture, a technology that has shifted from theoretical promise to practical necessity.

Steel is everywhere. It forms the skeletons of skyscrapers, the frames of cars, the rails beneath trains, and the machines that build modern economies. Yet behind this essential material lies a difficult truth. Steelmaking is one of the world’s most carbon intensive industries. Each ton of conventional steel can release nearly two tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. As countries race to reduce emissions and limit climate change, transforming the way steel is made has become an urgent challenge.

In rivers and lakes across North America, fish carry secrets invisible to the naked eye, secrets that researchers with the U.S. Geological Survey’s Eastern Ecological Science Center are determined to help uncover. With a passion for aquatic health and an interest in viral sleuthing, these researchers, including Dr. Clayton Raines, a fish biologist, have conducted groundbreaking research that is reshaping our understanding of fish disease. From uncovering a new virus in alewives to decoding the mystery behind the blotchy skin of black basses, this work not only expands the frontiers of fish virology but also reveals the hidden complexities of ecosystems. Here, we explore Raines’ and colleagues’ fascinating findings and their implications for fish management, conservation, and the health of freshwater species.

When disaster strikes, the images that dominate news coverage are almost always human centered. We see flooded neighborhoods, collapsed buildings, families waiting in shelters, and exhausted first responders. Yet woven into nearly every one of those scenes is another presence, often trembling at the end of a leash or peering out from a carrier. Companion animals are not an afterthought in modern life. They are family members, sources of emotional stability, and in some cases essential partners such as service dogs. As natural and human-made disasters grow in frequency and severity, the question of how to protect people inevitably includes the question of how to protect their animals.

If you were to observe a quiet Dutch pasture, you might not guess that one of the most important climate-resilience workers in the landscape is silently engineering the soil beneath the grass. However, just below your feet, an unassuming creature plays a role in buffering floods, preserving crops during droughts, and quietly maintaining the natural plumbing system of the land. This creature is the humble deep-burrowing earthworm, Lumbricus terrestris (or L. terrestris for short). In recent years, researcher Roos van de Logt of the Louis Bolk Institute, and colleagues, have been uncovering the surprisingly complex story of this earthworm. Their findings suggest that supporting, and in some cases reintroducing, L. terrestris could be a powerful, nature-based tool for helping European grasslands adapt to intensifying climate extremes.

If you walk through the bustling streets of Tehran, you might first notice the traffic, the densely packed apartments, or young people weaving through the city on motorbikes. But if you look a little closer, you may notice banners stretching across overpasses, tiny flags lining the perimeters of parks, or posters taped to walls, and you might just begin to sense something else humming quietly in the background: a story about nature, identity, and the nation itself. According to Prof. Satoshi Abe of Tottori University, Japan, who has researched environmental activism in Iran, the country is experiencing not just an environmental crisis, but an environmental reimagining. Iranians are not simply debating water shortages, air pollution, or endangered species, though they are certainly doing that. They are also wrestling with questions about what “nature” means within the story of Iran.