Storms rage. The air is warmer. The earth beneath our feet dries and, instead of soaking into living soil, water flows over paved landscapes, resulting in catastrophic flooding. These are the facts of climate change, and its effects are not just for the distant future. The crisis is happening everywhere, in rising temperatures, dry lands, and the surging stormwaters that test the strength of our cities and countryside alike. But within this challenge lies an opportunity—a chance to reconnect with the land and rethink how we coexist with water.

Think of the atmosphere as a huge energy reservoir that grows with each increase in warmth. As temperatures go up, the atmosphere can hold more moisture—about 7 percent more for every 1°C of warming. The ocean, with its vast reach, releases vapor into the wind. This moist air, packed with potential energy, moves over human-made landscapes—cities covered in asphalt and concrete, which absorb and radiate heat, forming urban “heat islands.”

When this moisture-rich air moves over our heat islands, it expands further, gathering even more energy. Hotter air, eager for moisture, draws water from the land—leaving the soil drier, plants stressed, and forests tinder-dry. The result is twofold: a higher risk of forest fires, as the landscape becomes more flammable, and an atmosphere primed for tempest—ready to unleash torrential rain with little warning.

From Rising Storms to Resilient Cities—A Call for Connection

As the global climate disrupts the delicate equilibrium of water and heat, storms change their character. No longer gentle soakers, they arrive as fierce bursts, dropping more water in shorter intervals. A paradox of a warming world emerges, with some lands parched under relentless sun, while others are battered by floods, unable to absorb the deluge.

Extreme storms are not just a weather fluctuation but a new normal. The atmosphere, now burdened with more heat and moisture, stores energy that turns ordinary storms into extremely destructive events. Higher temperatures cause more evaporation, which in turn leads to increased moisture in the air, resulting in more powerful storms. The effects are visible in flooded neighborhoods, overwhelmed drainage systems, and communities struggling with the unpredictable fury of the climate.

Yet, in the face of these mounting challenges, the humble lawn and the living soil beneath our feet possess unexpected strength. Grass, when managed responsibly—without constant watering or quick-release fertilizers that deplete the soil’s microbial life—can become a resilient system. Walking on or cutting the grass damages cells and stimulates growth, pulling down more carbon dioxide, pushing more carbohydrates into the soil, and sending roots deeper into the ground.

Healthy, deep-rooted plants weave a web of life beneath the surface. As roots dig deeper, they release more carbohydrates and create channels for water to flow through. The living microbes in the soil produce sticky carbohydrates—glomalin, nature’s glue—that bind mineral particles together. In this way, the ground becomes a sponge, capable of absorbing vast quantities of rain. Four inches of living soil can drink in seven inches of rain, a fact that transforms our understanding of stormwater management. Where the land absorbs, floods recede; where it cannot, the water rushes away—carrying soil, pollutants, and damage in its wake.

Why, then, are stormwaters rising even when annual rainfall remains relatively stable? The answer lies in our choices: we have replaced the earth’s natural carbon sponges—forests, fields, and wetlands—with hardscapes. Asphalt, concrete, rooftops, and roads dominate the modern landscape, shedding water instead of absorbing it. These surfaces not only accelerate runoff but also hold and emit heat, intensifying the warming effect and creating urban microclimates that increase the risk of both fire and flood.

As stormwater flows over these superheated surfaces, it gains not just speed but also thermal energy. This runoff, often quickly directed away through storm drains and culverts, eventually reaches rivers and, ultimately, the sea. This flow of heat and freshwater spreads across the surface of the salty Atlantic Ocean, warming the air and resulting in hotter summer temperatures. More stormwater strengthens the Gulf Stream, enabling it to carry more warm water northward. The effects ripple outward: melting sea ice, opening the Arctic Ocean, and warming the Arctic climate. The actions of property owners who do not allow rainwater to infiltrate into their land affect ocean circulation and warm distant lands.

Stormwater that cannot infiltrate the land is not merely a lost resource—it becomes a hazard. As rainwater runs off hardscape, it carves destructive paths that damage properties and infrastructure, threatening residents in low-lying neighborhoods. Disaster costs will mount despite municipalities investments in ever-larger drainage systems, flood defenses, and repairs. People, primarily those with low incomes, who live in more affordable, low-lying areas will have to evacuate their homes and relocate to higher ground.

Each storm becomes not just a meteorological event but a fiscal and social challenge.

Yet, it is not inevitable. The path to resilience lies in reconnecting with the land’s natural cycles and capacities.

Adaptation, Then And Now

Human history the story of adaptation and ingenuity. In ancient Babylon, the population boomed when people learned to harness the power of rivers. They built channels and terraces to capture and hold the waters from life-giving floods. Today, facing the twin challenges of climate change and urbanization, we too are called to innovation. Every story, old and new, adds value to the global conversation about how we live with water.

Modern cities are starting to turn the tide: permeable pavements, rain gardens, restored wetlands, and green roofs, walls, and hanging gardens offer hope. These solutions do not just imitate nature—they bring it back into our urban spaces. By capturing and absorbing stormwater where it falls, they lessen flood risks, recharge aquifers, and cool down the urban heat islands that worsen climate extremes.

It is easy to be skeptical in the face of immense change, see the challenge as insurmountable, or the solutions as too modest. But the challenge of climate change is not solved in one sweeping motion; it is addressed in countless small, meaningful actions. The act of nurturing healthy soil, planting a flower, advocating for green infrastructure, or simply observing and understanding land and water—each adds momentum to the movement for resilience.

Let us turn skepticism into a renewed connection with the land, viewing every lawn, garden, park, and green roof as a frontline in the defense against climate change. By fostering deep roots—both literal and metaphorical—we create spaces that absorb, adapt, cool, and endure.

The truth remains: climate change is real and its impacts are profound. But so is our capacity for response. The earth is not merely a backdrop to human endeavor—it is a living, dynamic partner. In learning once again to listen to the rhythms of land and water, we reclaim agency and hope.

May each story of adaptation, each patch of restored soil, and each voice raised in the global conversation inspire others to do the same. The future is not yet written. Together, we can turn the tide—one rainstorm, one root, one resilient community at a time.

About the Author

Dr. Rob Moir is a nationally recognized and award-winning environmentalist. He is the president and executive director of the Ocean River Institute, a nonprofit based in Cambridge, MA, that provides expertise, services, resources, and information not readily available on a localized level to support the efforts of environmental organizations. Please visit www.oceanriver.org for more information.