Mammal Meteorology: On Fauna as Forecasting Infrastructure

Maya Livio

FIBER
6 min readNov 23, 2023

​​From January 19 to 22, FIBER hosted Part 4 of its Reassemble Lab: The Weathercapes Lab. The Lab broadly explored how the weather works; from the relationship between weather and climate as well as the relationships between weather measurements and the development of contemporary forecasting models and computer technology, and more. Maya Livio shares a series of reflections on the mobilisation of nonhuman beings as climate sensors and what questions they open up about the uneven distribution of heat.

Machine learning-generated image of a groundhog-topped weathervane, as prompted by the author.

1.

My cat of fifteen years could predict rain with shocking accuracy. As he sensed approaching storm clouds, even those not yet visible from the window, he would issue a forecast alert by crouching low to the ground and running to take shelter. Presumably, he could sense changes in atmospheric pressure through his inner ears or fur, though storm phobias are more frequently found in dogs than cats. He was otherwise a mellow and brave companion.

2.

Weathervanes so often take the shape of roosters that they are sometimes called “weathercocks.” Time-honored devices for wind detection and measurement, they once topped cathedrals and castles in medieval Europe and then grew fashionable in the U.S. in the late 19th century. [1] There, according to a republished weathervane catalogue from 1883, the “growing power, wealth and adventurous spirit of a youthful America were reflected in the stately rooftop spires,” which “served as trade signs, good luck emblems, decorative status symbols, and, of course, indicators of wind direction.” [2]

When the rain-detecting cat, his sister, and I lived in one of the oldest neighborhoods of Los Angeles, Angelino Heights, we were immersed within a high density of Victorian houses featuring weathervanes at every turn. The homes and their environmental adornments are well-known from film, television, and music videos such as Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”. Here a grasshopper, there a fish mounted atop the mansion from the late-’90s TV show “Charmed.” These were animal indicators for the privilege of weather sensing, faunal status updates. Shaped not only as barnyard fowl but as other species and classes, the heads of these pointers were used to signal the direction of the wind — nonhuman affordances of weather interface.

3.

Pagan, Christian, Germanic, and Celtic traditions have all suggested that the transition from winter to spring in a given year can be anticipated by analyzing mammalian shadows. Whether badger, bear, or hedgehog, animals have been venerated as forecasters, predictive algorithms of the weather to come. This practice continues today in places like Pennsylvania, where a consecutive lineage of groundhogs, all known as Punxsutawney Phil, are said to declare their annual weather notifications in a language called “Groundhogese.”

4.

I have not had a chance to see the Punxatawney Phil groundhog(s) in real life but have spent time in the field researching their similarly stocky ground-squirrel relative, the yellow-bellied marmot, as well as another small mammal who shares their habitats known as the American pika. [3]

Marmots and pikas live in the alpine tundra, a harsh, high-elevation biome above the tree line, where the extreme conditions call for finely calibrated thermoregulation. Marmots manage the low temperatures via a layer of brown fat, a specialised tissue that rapidly produces heat. They also hibernate to withstand bitterly cold winters. Pikas, on the other hand, take shelter in rocky outcrops called talus, reducing their activity in unfavorable weather to only short bursts. In addition, they maintain an exceptionally high resting body temperature, enabling them to stay warm through the frigid months.

This combination of factors — highly specialised thermoregulation strategies matched to a particular climate — leaves pikas and marmots at severe risk in the face of rapidly rising global temperatures. Already living at a high elevation, their opportunities for upward mobility are limited. And pikas, with their already warm bodies, are especially susceptible to heat-related death. [4] As a result of this vulnerability, pikas are often mobilised as an indicator species for the climate crisis.

American pika in the Rocky Mountains, photo by the author.

5.

Serving as proxies for their ecosystems, indicator species are living beings harnessed as environmental sensors. They have been deployed to assess environmental health since at least 1919 [5], used to both monitor and predict the conditions of the environments of which they are a part. Indicator species are said to be “intuitively pleasing,” as they make environmental study and management more efficient and cost-effective. [6] They can also help to streamline scientific findings, facilitating a more digestible science communication. [7] However, indicator species also run the risk of oversimplifying ecological complexity. [8]

6.

At FIBER’s “Weatherscapes Talks,” historian Robert-Jan Wille demonstrated how meteorological expertise relies on a more expansive set of knowledges than the technologies often associated with it, such as thermometers or climate models. He surveyed historical understandings of weather and climate, showing they have long extended beyond technical devices. Drawing from climatologist Paul N. Edwards’s book A Vast Machine, Wille highlighted how political and cultural infrastructures have undergirded weather programs.

Building on this argument, curator Daphne Dragona reiterated the significance of embodiment in weather knowledges: “We feel weather in our bodies and this can’t be disputed.” How, then, have nonhuman beings and their bodies figured into understandings of weather and climate? How have their bodies themselves been made into meteorological technologies and forecasting tools? How do weathercocks made of copper or flesh shape environmental understanding?

Here, it is important to reiterate the unevenly distributed “we” of weathering bodies. [9] Climate and weather are experienced differently based on privilege and location, sensory capacities, ability to thermoregulate, and access to technologies, whether they be HVAC units or shade trees, performance outerwear or rocky slopes at higher elevations. Elderly bodies, sick bodies, imprisoned bodies, and bodies experiencing menopause — each sense and make sense of weather in distinctly vulnerable ways. Nonhuman bodies do too, and have long been a part of weather infrastructures.

Maya Livio researches, writes, makes media, and curates about the contact zones between ecosystems and technological systems. Her interdisciplinary, justice-oriented projects have been featured in and supported by the Andy Warhol Foundation, Redline Contemporary, The Washington Post, NPR, and Vanity Fair. She has commissioned and programmed new media as Curator of MediaLive, an annual international festival at Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art, as well as old media as Curator of the Media Archaeology Lab. Currently, she is a Caltech-Huntington Research Resident and is Assistant Professor of Climate, Environmental Justice, Media, and Communication at American University in Washington, DC.

Sources:

[1] Noble, Joseph V.; Price, Derek J. de Solla (October 1968). “The Water Clock in the Tower of the Winds”. American Journal of Archaeology. 72 (4): 345–355 (353).

[2] A.B. & W.T. Westervelt, “American Antique Weather Vanes: The Complete Illustrated Westervelt Catalog of 1883” 1982. New York: Dover Publications, Inc. (Publisher’s Note, no page number)

[3] Livio, Maya. 2022. “Lagomorph Lessons: Feminist Methods for Environmental Sensing and Sensemaking”. In Multispecies Storytelling in Intermedial Practices. Ida Bencke and Jørgen Bruhn, eds. Brooklyn NY: Pnctum Books.

[4] Whipple, Ashley L., Chris Ray, Max Wasser, James N. Kitchens, Alisa A. Hove, Johanna Varner, and Jennifer L. Wilkening. 2020. “Temporal vs. spatial variation in stress-associated metabolites within a population of climate-sensitive small mammals.” Conservation Physiology 9, no. 1.

[5] Hall, Harvey Monroe and Grinnell, Joseph. 1919. “Life-zone indicators in California.” Proceedings of the California Academy of Sciences, 4th series 9, 37–67.

[6] Niemi, Gerald J., Joann M. Hanowski, Ann R. Lima, Tom Nicholls, and Norm Weiland. 1997. “A Critical Analysis on the Use of Indicator Species in Management.” The Journal of Wildlife Management 61, no. 4 (October 1997): 1240.

[7] Siddig, Ahmed A.H., Aaron M. Ellison, Alison Ochs, Claudia Villar-Leeman, and Matthew K. Lau. 2016.“How Do Ecologists Select and Use Indicator Species to Monitor Ecological Change? Insights from 14 Years of Publication in Ecological Indicators.” Ecological Indicators 60 (January 2016): 223–30.

[8] Lindenmayer, D.B., Likens, G.E., 2011. Direct measurement versus surrogate indicator species for evaluating environmental change and biodiversity loss. Ecosystems 14, 47–59.

[9] Liboiron, Max. 2021. Pollution Is Colonialism. Durham: Duke University Press, p. 23.

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