Far too high in the mountains, surrounded by quaking aspen and pinyon pine, the last of the winter’s snow is speckled with pink, purple, and orange tones. It’s similar to flavored snow cones, Flamin’ Sizzling Cheetos, pink lemonade, dissolving blood, or if bystanders completed an art project with purple food coloring. Hikers, campers, and church youth teams passing by grab it in their hands.
At Tony Grove Lake in Utah’s Logan Canyon, Jana Brough, a mother going mountain climbing with family and friends, said last week, “It’s nearly preferable that it’s been sprinkled with Himalayan salt and even Kool-Assist powder.” But once you scrape it, you can see that it’s only on the ground.
Park City to the Bear River Valley
From the highways that cross mountain passes above Park City to the Bear River Valley at the Utah-Idaho border, the snowfall from the previous winter is heating up, frying in the sun, and taking on purple tones. Due to its pinkish tinge, the snow has earned the unofficial nickname “watermelon snow,” which is piqueing the interest of tourists taking pictures and raising many concerns about the environment, human health, and local weather. Its summertime presence is particularly noticeable on ridgelines and in mountain ranges, where, in years with more precipitation, the snow would have disappeared by now.
High-altitude environments around the world, including the French Alps and Japan’s Mountains of Dewa, produce the Technicolor snow when a perfect storm of elements such as water content, sunlight, temperature, and vitamin content awakens dormant, inexperienced algae known as Chlamydomonas nivalis, which is a species that thrives in cold temperatures. The algae swim to the snow’s surface, where they split and flourish. When they arrive and are exposed to UV and solar radiation, their shade adapts to absorb the radiation and protect them from harm.
Work focuses on biodiversity in cold
Ecologist Scott Hotaling of Utah State College, whose work focuses on biodiversity in cold, high-altitude settings, compared the ability of algae to produce a secondary color to that of humans, whose pores and skin employ pigmentation to absorb UV light and protect against the sun. They want some kind of pigmentation to protect themselves from UV damage from their high-UV environment. in order that they primarily create the secondary pigment in order to protect themselves,” he said.
Many wonder whether the pink snow will be edible. The answer was technically correct since Hotaling said it was safe to consume. However, it is not recommended since it is often found in melting snow banks that are also covered with toxic dust and debris.
“Watermelon” snow was observed in Italy’s Dolomites. {Image}: Alamy/Bob Gibbons
According to Hotaling, if cattle, dogs, or fish come into contact with the algae as they melt into the water, there is no risk to their health or that of humans. The “watermelon snow” phenomenon does cause snow to melt more quickly, raising concerns about seasonal snowmelt patterns and the lifespan of the glaciers—where algae are known to flourish—even though it isn’t dangerous to use as a source of water.
While snow melting into water allows the algae to grow, the exposure of the bare ground alters the amount of light reflected rather than absorbed. Darker hues absorb more light, causing snow banks and glaciers to melt faster.
Rate and timing of melting
Changes in the rate and timing of melting, which reveal bare ground earlier in the season, might create problems in the western mountains, impacting species and ecosystems that rely on cold water downstream as well as reservoirs built to handle more slow snowfall. Sea level rise brought on by glacier softening may result in flooding on lakes and coasts in areas similar to the Arctic.
According to Alia Khan, a biogeochemist who studies glaciers at Western Washington College, “it reduces its skill to replicate photovoltaic radiation after we add light-absorbing particles that basically darken the snow—like snow algae, black carbon, or mud.”