Suzanne Bernard

It’s 5:30 AM, and the alarm jolts me awake. The sky outside is barely starting to lighten. The early mornings are always the toughest, but they’ve become routine over the years. I roll out of bed, glance at the calendar, and immediately think about today’s flights. Another mission over the vineyards. The farmers are waiting.

After a quick breakfast, I grab my jacket and head out. The air is still crisp, and the town is quiet, save for a few early risers. My colleagues are already at the site when I arrive, prepping the mini-zeppelin for measurements. We’re working near Bordeaux this week, surrounded by vast stretches of vineyards that produce some of the world’s finest wines. As a physicist, you’d think I’d be more excited about the data we’re collecting, but on days like this, I can’t help but feel the weight of the ethical questions cloud seeding raises.

We’re deploying silver iodide today. Not from the zeppelin—it’s strictly for atmospheric measurements—but from a small airplane. The goal? Induce rain before hailstorms can damage the precious grapevines. It sounds straightforward, but the science is anything but. I’m 47 now, and after decades in atmospheric research, I know there’s still so much we don’t understand about clouds. The data from the zeppelin helps, but it doesn’t answer the bigger questions.

As the zeppelin ascends into the pale morning sky, I watch it quietly, knowing the airplane will soon follow with its silver iodide payload. Below, the vineyards stretch out, a patchwork of greens and browns, waiting for us—or nature—to decide their fate. There’s an irony here that doesn’t escape me: human activity has accelerated climate change, and now we intervene chemically to mitigate its impact. A vicious cycle, one we’re still not sure we can break.

The zeppelin returns smoothly after collecting its data, but the real test will be hours from now—will today’s cloud seeding make a difference? The farmers trust us, but deep down, I wonder if we deserve that trust. I’m not sure anyone does anymore, not in the world we’ve shaped.

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Sven Larsson

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Kwosi Yeboah