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Hidden Traces: How Water Releases Contaminated Sites, Heavy Metals, and Toxic Residues

Blindfolded woman in dry riverbed beside chemical barrels; railway tracks and industrial site in background Between memory and hazard: As the riverbed reemerged, long-buried contaminants returned — traces few ever truly see.


When water comes, it changes our landscapes. It sweeps away almost everything in its path, i.e. everything that is visible, tangible, and also massively destructive.

But what happens when it recedes again?

I think of all the chemical traces that seep deep into our soil, into the sediments and our groundwater. For me, this is when the real second disaster begins, perhaps still invisible in many places, but nevertheless very effective.

The underestimated mobility: Contaminated legacies in the flow of time

Floods, heavy rainfall, and thawing permafrost act like chemical time machines. They open up unwelcome archives of our past, i.e., contaminated sites from industrial plants, agriculture, and transportation. Some of these have been locked in the ground for decades and are now suddenly becoming mobile.

What if we didn’t just see the flood, but also its chemical shadows?

I myself experienced the 2002 flood in Dresden, my beloved hometown. It was a once-in-a-century flood, with the Elbe River reaching a historic high of 9.40 meters on August 17, 2002—a level that had never been measured before. The damage in Dresden was estimated at over one billion euros.

For many, an oil slick on a flooded parking lot after such a severe storm may seem like a minor detail. But for me — with MCS (multiple chemical sensitivity) and CFS — such scenes look completely different. For me, these are not abstract examples of environmental pollution, because I can actually feel them physically. Our historic Dresden main station was completely flooded on the ground floor at the time. This scenario alone presents a whole portfolio of chemical mobilization. The main station is located low down and is surrounded by railway tracks, workshops, transformer stations, storage rooms, and technical infrastructure. I immediately think of oils, lubricants, cleaning agents, paints, solvents, and everything else that was stored in workshops and technical rooms, which was probably swept away or washed out. The station is located in the Weißeritz lowlands, an area that has been used for industrial purposes since the 19th century. And when the Weißeritz river reclaimed its old riverbed with brute force during the night of August 12 to 13, 2002, it completely flooded not only the ground floor of the main station, but also adjacent tracks, workshops, and technical infrastructure. There is little public documentation of whether there were any concrete measurements or evidence of such mobilization at the main station at the time. However, the combination of the station's location, its history of use, and the flooding alone makes it clear that it was not only a transportation hub but also a potential hub for chemical releases. Dresden's Friedrichstadt district and adjacent parts of the Wilsdruffer Vorstadt suburb were also flooded. Friedrichstadt in particular was historically a very important industrial location in Dresden. This included dry cleaners, electroplating shops, workshops, warehouses, railway yards, hospitals, and medical facilities. Numerous workshops for mechanical engineering, metalworking, and repairs were located along the railway facilities. During the Nazi era, many of these businesses were integrated into arms production or used to repair military infrastructure.

As you can see, the list is long, very long ...

In its official environmental reports and information on contaminated sites, the city of Dresden points out that large parts of the urban area are potentially contaminated due to a long industrial history, war damage, and also the subsequent use of the sites by the GDR. And they have been diligent, systematically testing 2,243 sites suspected of contamination between 1991 and 2014 if they were within the scope of 313 urban development plans. (9) The city has attempted to identify the contamination risks at an early stage and to take them into account in its planning before new buildings are constructed. However, the number of sites alone clearly shows how widespread potential contamination is in Dresden. Although the systematic recording of sites suspected of contamination in Dresden began as early as 1991, many sites were not assessed until years later, especially if they were not directly relevant to urban land-use planning or redevelopment projects. This meant that the 2002 floods hit a contaminated site register that was still very incomplete, and many of the potentially contaminated sites had not yet been identified, assessed, or secured at that time.

So the flood was faster than the land registry!

I also experienced the Mangfall flood in Bavaria, the heavy rain in the Rosenheim region, and the flooding in Veneto (Italy), and have been out in rubber boots and sandbags more than once myself.

But each of these events also had real and tangible consequences for me. The many chemical smells, the pungent odors of heating oil, spilled gasoline, the smell of burning after short circuits in transformer stations... And that's just the part you can smell. I'm not even talking about what might have ended up on your plate or in your drinking water later.

Collage of chemicals, pesticides, paints, radiation symbols, and landfills — condensed imagery of invisible legacies. A toxic archive in fragments: What we stored in parts returns as layered threat — visible and yet overlooked.


Please, let us immerse ourselves in this world for a moment.

It was a matter of course for me to help in my beloved hometown of Dresden. Every helping hand counts. But believe me: it wasn't just water passing by in my mind's eye, it was my city's entire industrial heritage. Decades of GDR industry, uranium processing, chemical plants, landfills, contaminated soil, former military sites — a real toxicological journey through time.

I saw images from my childhood flash before my eyes. Places like Dresden-Coschütz/Gittersee, where radioactive waste was stored in piles for years. Our Collmberghalde in the south of Dresden is a relic from this period. Unusable uranium ore from the Wismut mining company, municipal waste, power plant ash from the “Nossener Brücke” cogeneration plan t— all spread over an area of around 17 hectares. Heavy metals such as arsenic, cadmium, and mercury were also released there.

Systematic environmental monitoring? In GDR times, it didn’t exist in today’s sense – many substances were dumped without control, without modern safeguards (3).

Halde A, one of the industrial disposal sites of the former Uranfabrik 95 uranium factory, was built directly in the Kaitzbachtal valley. And I still wonder today whether, in 2002 – during heavy rainfall – parts of the 1,500 tons of uranium, 1,500 tons of arsenic, and over 10,000 tons of other heavy metals (cadmium, lead, mercury) and radium-226 (10) stored there ended up in the Kaitzbach stream through contaminated seepage water. Or whether they were mobilized by soil air and surface runoff. Perhaps they were also washed into the stream by mudslides. No one knows. These substances were stored in tailings, red mud, and ash — some of it unsealed.

The flooding also mobilized other contaminated sites. The groundwater level rose by more than six meters in parts of Dresden within a few days (1) (2). This was associated with the possible release of halogenated hydrocarbons such as trichloroethylene and tetrachloroethylene, heavy metals (lead, copper, zinc), sulfate, nitrate, and DOC (dissolved organic carbon). In many places, the water did not recede until well into late summer 2003. (11) (12)

I still think about those days. At the time of the flood, there was no systematic environmental monitoring or risk assessment for all these contaminated sites. The first thorough investigation of the Collmberghalde began in 2013 with geotechnical and radiological measurements.

At the Specialist Conference on Abandoned Mining 2017, BAUGRUND Dresden GmbH presented its radiological investigations: On around 80% of the embankment areas, specific activities of over 1 becquerel per gram were found – a value considered legally relevant under radiation protection law. In some areas, radon concentrations in the surrounding environment reached up to 500 becquerels per cubic meter – well above natural background levels. Within the landfill body itself, radium-226 activities of up to 14,000 becquerels per kilogram were detected. A positive finding was that the existing ash cover demonstrated good radon barrier properties – this was incorporated into the later remediation plan. Nevertheless, the recommendation was unequivocal – a comprehensive securing of the site was deemed absolutely necessary. The decision to remediate was made in 2023, with construction starting in December.

And what happens in all those many disaster and crisis areas around the world, once all the cameras have long since moved on? What remains then?

Brick wall with colorful children's drawings; beside it, a dusty air monitor — a contrast of innocence and exposure Between childhood and control: Who protects what was drawn in innocence when the air speaks a different truth?


I have created a Reflection Room for you, and I would be truly delighted if you would join me in it ...

From Earth to Empathy – The Observation Reflection Room

For millions of people with MCS, Long COVID, CFS, or other chronic illnesses – including myself – many events remain unseen. Because our reality often begins exactly where others have long returned to business as usual.

It is the year 2025. We possess vast technical knowledge, sensors, models, preparedness plans. And yet, in many places, there is still a lack of systematic awareness that many crisis and disaster events are also chemical catastrophes.

We need all these questions to truly get to the root of the blind spots of the present. Because what we overlook often says more about us than what we measure. And, at the end of the day, this means: it is not only the data we collect that defines our environmental perception, but also what was not collected, not observed and not named.

  1. What does it mean for us when not only roads, but also the boundaries between the visible and the hidden are flooded? When not only houses begin to waver, but also suppressed memories of former industrial sites, fuel depots, storage areas, and poisoned fields resurface?
  2. Who protects the environment when no one is looking anymore?
  3. How many generations will it take to detoxify the residues of crises and catastrophes — and can we really afford not to? For this, we need comprehensive satellite imagery, sediment profiles, soil fissures — for everything that continues to work underground, long after the flood, the fire, or the noise has fallen silent.
  4. How is our collective memory changing when environmental disasters follow each other ever more rapidly — and we no longer have the time to truly process them?
  5. What happens when crises overlap, causing earlier events to be forgotten — along with their causes, their victims, and their toxic traces? Do we need a new kind of "memory management" for environmental history?
  6. What does it mean for all of us — for all those with genetic detoxification weaknesses — with GST deletions, SOD2 polymorphism, NAT2 slow acetylation, or EPHX1 in its most sensitive form? For those whose bodies no longer possess toxicological fault tolerance? Further genetic variants exacerbate this imbalance (SLC30A, ATP7B, MTF1, or MTHFR), and exposure to arsenic becomes far more than just a biochemical irritant.
  7. What happens to those affected whose bodies have been altered by environmental burden, but who are not recognized in any medical classification system? How do we deal with “environmentally induced diagnoses” that fall between the chairs of toxicology, immunology, and psychosomatics? Who protects those who cannot even be named?
  8. What happens when environmental knowledge is measured only by scientific standards and not by the experiential knowledge of those affected? What insights into toxic burden, into life after the flood, breathing after the fire, or gardening in contaminated soil are lost when "Citizen Sensing" and locally lived environmental perception are not truly taken seriously?
  9. How can algorithms learn what they (still) do not know — such as smells, fatigue, or the unease of a body sensing toxins, even when no measurement is triggered? Do we need new interfaces between subjective perception and objective data collection? And how can technology begin to “feel” rather than merely measure?
  10. Why do we measure emissions but not emotions? Why are there no parameters for exhaustion, fear, helplessness in environmental models — even though it is precisely these feelings that often decide whether we stay, fight for life, flee or resign?
  11. What space belongs to those whose bodies have no voice anymore due to environmental crises — because they have already become too exhausted, too sensitive, too ill? How can urban planning and research make these "voiceless" groups visible — without pathologizing, but with dignity and impact?
  12. How can we effectively close the translational gap between Earth Observation (EO), environmental toxicology, and disaster management?
  13. How can satellite data in the future not only visualize environmental changes but truly identify toxicological relevance zones?
  14. What do long-term trajectories after floods or fires look like? What happens 5, 10, or 25 years after such events when contaminants gradually enter our food chains or diffuse into our bodies? We need "post-acute toxicity observations" for this — similar to long-term medical follow-ups. Disaster management too often ends with the removal of sandbags, not with monitoring long-term contamination.
  15. While I’ve placed humans front and center, how do our insects, amphibians, soils, and fungi respond to this toxic mobilization? Do we need new sensors or simply better ways of "listening" to nature?
  16. When will toxicology become an early warning system in disaster protection — instead of being only a retrospective evaluation tool?
  17. What does it mean if we only demand environmental justice where it’s visible? Who speaks for the "forgotten zones" — for contaminated soils without lobby, for victims without voice, for ecosystems without economic value? And how can we bring these spaces back onto political maps?
  18. What happens when molecular reality moves faster than our regulations? How do we handle the fact that toxic substances already circulate freely, while approval procedures, legal limits, or remediation plans take years — sometimes decades? What does that mean for vulnerable groups, for prevention, and for political responsiveness?
  19. When will we begin to understand environmental observation as a collective archive of memory? Could Earth Observation become not only a tool for warning, but also a memory of damage — a visual archive of collective environmental inequality that refuses to forget where landscapes were forgotten?
  20. Many discussions focus on heavy metals and hydrocarbons, but what about the underestimated substance classes like endocrine disruptors, PFAS ("forever chemicals"), biocides, or microplastics in contaminated sites? These are still rarely considered in disaster contexts.
  21. And what if the next tipping point is not chemical, but societal? Perhaps we are not only crossing ecological thresholds but also social ones — where trust in environmental policy, science, and protective measures begins to fracture. How can environmental communication be designed to not only inform, but also to honor?
  22. What happens when a flash flood washes over an old wool-processing facility, a galvanic plant or a landfill filled with pesticide residues?
  23. While radon and heavy metals are already known health risks, there are hardly any systematic studies on neurotoxic impacts after environmental disasters. How do environmental chemicals affect our cognitive and emotional stress — especially in children and other vulnerable groups in affected regions? How does neurotoxicity behave and what remains unseen?
  24. How many gaps in our toxicological databases reflect the gaps in lived biographies?
  25. What happens to those whose symptoms are not validated — because there are no readings, no reference values, no studies for them?
  26. Who takes responsibility for the invisible — when no one “owns” it? When contaminants migrate through soil, air, water, and bodily systems, legal responsibilities often blur. Who protects commons like breathable air or sediment zones below the regulatory radar?
  27. Who considers psychotoxicity — the emotional dimension of environmental poisoning? I see a major blind spot here. What does it do to those affected by environmental disasters to know that their soil is poisoned — even if the water sample is “below the threshold”? Empathy here also means making the emotional scars visible — the ones that arise when living spaces become unstable. This has much to do with our resilience.
  28. What does “return to normality” mean if the ground beneath our feet is more toxic than before?
  29. Who decides when a place is considered safe again and by whose standard? Is there space for doubt, uncertainty, and the admission: We do not know everything yet?
  30. Why do EO, environmental toxicology, and disaster protection still operate in separate data silos? And who has the courage to break them open?
  31. How can we prevent Earth Observation from becoming an environmental burden itself? Satellites, data centers, sensor infrastructures — all require energy, raw materials, and physical infrastructure. How do we design a sustainable observation of sustainability?
  32. Can we really afford, ethically, to protect each place only once? What if the same site is flooded, contaminated, or overlooked repeatedly — just because it’s seen as “less valuable”? Do we need a protection strategy for repetition — for what has already once been forgotten?
  33. How can a shared hazard matrix be created that integrates chemical, biological and hydrological risks?
  34. Where do we need new “translators” between the lab, GIS software, public agencies and civil society?
  35. How do we succeed in transforming our invaluable Earth Observation into Empathy Observation?


This last question, in particular, goes far beyond modern technology for me. Yes, Earth Observation (EO) already shows us what is happening — where our forests are burning, our rivers are overflowing and our glaciers are disappearing. But Empathy Observation also asks “Whom does it affect and how?”.

Here too, we need a shift in perspective — away from a purely orbital gaze and towards a gaze through the bodies of those affected. Because an oil slick is not just a “smudge” in remote sensing, but for people with MCS, CFS, Long COVID, for example, a severe health hazard. I also wish for a shift away from generalized risk maps and toward a more precise transition to individualized vulnerability. Because those who cannot genetically detoxify experience environmental catastrophes in ways others might only associate with a chemical attack. And we also need to move away from purely hydrological hazard models and toward toxicological impact models. 

Glowing GIS map on wall; in front, a scientist in lab coat crouches — between global overview and local concern Global view, human scale: Who reads in the data what lies between the coordinates?


Between Satellite View and Lived Reality – What if we built our systems this way?

  • What if satellite systems didn’t just show water levels and vegetation stress, but also indicated where toxic legacy pollution could be exposed during floods?
  • What if models didn’t just calculate evacuation zones, but also considered where immunosensitive groups live?
  • What if our systems were truly tangible? That is, what if our early warning systems didn’t just send alerts via SMS, but also connected with local care facilities, self-help groups, and schools — because not everyone can hear, understand, or respond equally well?
  • What if satellites didn’t just measure soil moisture, but also indicated where contaminated playgrounds had been flooded and directly networked this information with public health offices?
  • What if we mirrored weather models with emergency call statistics, pharmacy prescription volumes, and psychological stress data to answer the question: “Where is the pressure truly rising in the system right now?”
  • What if our systems could also listen — instead of only sending? What if Earth Observation didn’t only deliver top-down data but was enriched by local observations — for example, through citizen sensing, through smell diaries kept by people with MCS or through personal accounts from flood-affected areas?
  • What if data collection routinely included space for “not measurable, but perceptible” — creating a place for uncertainty, subjectivity, and sensory precision?
  • What if our systems could also preserve memory? That is, if every remediation measure left behind a digital “memory tag” that years later still made clear: what was released here, how was it addressed, and what remains or remained unresolved?
  • What if we didn’t just map environmental change, but also considered who it robs of the air they breathe? What if (risk) maps didn’t just document pollution, but also the stories of those affected, who lived there, who helped, suffered and healed?


Perhaps Earth Observation will one day be called Empathy-Integrated Observation, and Risk Maps, then, Resonance Maps. Because we should not only count the risks — we should also begin to feel them. … 

Who knows what the future will bring? I have complete trust in the expert community and am placing my fate in their hands. Perhaps we really do need an additional term such as “empathy-integrated observation” to create new alliances between laboratories, models, invisibility and its effects, and the reality of our lives.

For me, resonance clearly means connection — that is, between data and experience, between science and subjectivity, but also between visible evidence and invisible impact.


Crowd in city center of Indonesia or Bangladesh; polluted river flows openly through shopping street At the heart of life, at the edge of risk: Where rivers turn to waste — and environmental crisis becomes backdrop to daily life.


Why can “Empathy-Integrated Observation” help to close a gap here?

  1. To overcome dis-integration, because empathy is, by definition, integrative. If we design EO systems in such a way that they make not only environmental changes but also human impact visible, then a shared reference framework might emerge — for data providers, users, and decision-makers alike.
  2. From data overload to data meaning, because many users feel overwhelmed by EO data. Empathy-oriented systems could help identify zones of relevance. For example: where do particularly vulnerable groups live? Where is toxicological exposure especially high during floods? In this way, data also becomes orientation.
  3. It can also help build trust, because some communities mistrust EO data as they do not feel represented. Empathy can create spaces of resonance — where data is not only sent, but also received, with a feedback loop. We already know from studies such as those by Kondylatos et al. (2025) (6) and Bulgin et al. (2022) (7) that so-called representation uncertainty — that is, uncertainty about what and whom EO data actually represent, is a central issue. Many communities, especially in marginalized regions, experience EO data as technically distant, linguistically inaccessible, or not aligned with their lived reality. Empathy here does not only mean compassion, but also active resonance — data is not only “sent,” but also mirrored back through feedback, local validation, and (personal) stories.
  4. “Empathy-Integrated Observation” could serve as a bridging term — to further mediate between various disciplines such as remote sensing, environmental toxicology, public health, disaster management, and the social sciences. Precisely where “dis-integration” still prevails in many places today. I do not see empathy as the opposite of technology, but rather as its completion.
  5. To operationalize human-centered design — the term “Empathy-Integrated” compels us not just to talk about humans, but to design with them. 
  • This includes: visualization (e.g. resonance maps instead of abstract risk maps), language (low-threshold communication), and prioritization (e.g. focusing on per capita impact rather than purely monetary damage).


I see “Empathy-Integrated Observation” not merely as an ethical aspiration, but truly as a methodological lever to significantly enhance the relevance, acceptance and impact of EO data.


Coffee or tea cup standing alone in dusty, sandy landscape — symbol of abandoned or forgotten life Traces of a life no longer claimed — forgotten, yet not gone.


list of sources


Scientific sources – studies on heavy metals, arsenic, and environmental hazards (selection)

These selected studies provide insights into the subtle but profound effects of heavy metals, arsenic, and other environmental toxins on humans and our ecosystems. They show what becomes visible when we are willing to take a closer look. Anyone who engages with this literature enters a valuable space for reflection between research, responsibility, and shaping our future, because these invisible dangers are not a footnote, but an urgent and real part of our time.

Skierszkan, E. K., Dockrey, J. W., & Lindsay, M. B. J. (2024). Metal mobilization from thawing permafrost is an emergent risk to water resources. ACS ES&T Water. https://doi.org/10.1021/acsestwater.4c00789.

Bhattacharya, P., Vahter, M., Jarsjö, J., Kumpiene, J., Bundschuh, J., & Naidu, R. (2017). Arsenic research and global sustainability: Proceedings of the Sixth International Congress. CRC Press. https://doi.org/10.1201/9781315364131.

Perryman, C. R., et al. (2020). Heavy metals in the Arctic: Distribution and enrichment of five metals in Alaskan soils. PLOS ONE, 15(6), e0233297. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0233297.

France24. (2019). Arsenic pollution: A toxic legacy of France's gold rush. https://www.france24.com/en/20190222-down-earth-france-aude-floods-mining-gold-arsenic-pollution-contamination-cancer.

Patel, K. S., et al. (2023). A review on arsenic in the environment: Contamination, mobility, sources, and exposure. RSC Advances, 13, 789–812.  https://doi.org/10.1039/D3RA00789H.

Scussolini, P., & Eilander, D. (2023). Floodplain contamination from mining: Global modelling and exposure assessment. Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam. https://vu.nl/en/news/2023/extensive-impact-of-metal-mining-contamination-on-rivers-and-floodplains.

Wu, X., Zhang, W., & Mu, C. (2022). Permafrost degradation affects hydrology, ecology, and carbon cycle. Frontiers in Environmental Science, 10, 1053941. https://doi.org/10.3389/fenvs.2022.1053941.

Zhang, Y., et al. (2022). Flood-induced mobilization of arsenic in Chinese river basins. Journal of Hydrology, 610, 127936 https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jhydrol.2022.127936.

Miner, K. R., et al. (2021). Emerging threats from thawing permafrost. Nature Climate Change, 11, 809–816. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41558-021-01162-y.

UNEP. (2022). Toxic trail: The global legacy of mining waste. United Nations Environment Programme.  https://www.unep.org/resources/report/toxic-trail.

USGS. (2021). Geochemical database for North America: Soil and sediment data. https://pubs.usgs.gov/ds/759/.

Chen, N., et al. (2021). Arsenic and heavy metal pollution in Chinese agricultural soils: A meta-analysis. Science of the Total Environment, 755, 142422. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.scitotenv.2020.142422.

Tóth, G., et al. (2016). Heavy metals in agricultural soils of the European Union with implications for food safety. Environment International, 88, 299–309. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.envint.2015.12.017.

Macklin, M., Thomas, C., & Mudbhatkal, A. (2023). Global study reveals extensive impact of metal mining contamination on rivers and floodplains. Science. https://www.preventionweb.net/news/global-study-reveals-extensive-impact-metal-mining-contamination-rivers-and-floodplains.

Ahmed, K. M., et al. (2018). Arsenic contamination in groundwater: Bangladesh case study. Nature Geoscience, 11, 738–743. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41561-018-0214-0.

Obu, J., et al. (2019). Northern Hemisphere permafrost map based on TTOP modelling for 2000–2016 at 1 km2 scale. Earth-Science Reviews, 193, 299–316. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.earscirev.2019.04.023.

Bumberger, S. (2023). Mobilization of arsenic in old deposits. University of Bayreuth, Chair of Environmental Geochemistry. https://www.umweltgeochemie.uni-bayreuth.de/umweltgeochemie/de/forschung/diss/detail.php?id_obj=170961.

Bundesamt für Umwelt (BAFU). (2025). Ecotoxicological procedures at contaminated sites. Bern: FOEN. https://www.bafu.admin.ch/bafu/de/home/dokumentation/studien/altlasten-studien.html.

Energiezukunft. (2023). Permafrost: Fossil fuels, heavy metals, and radioactive waste are thawing along with the permafrost. https://www.energiezukunft.eu/klimakrise/fossile-altlasten-schwermetalle-und-radioaktive-abfaelle-tauen-mit-auf/.

GEOMAR Helmholtz-Zentrum. (2018). System Consequences of Conventional Munitions Compounds in Coastal Marine Waters. Frontiers in Marine Science.  https://www.bundestag.de/resource/blob/824144/22fb2f1df191d74fbaba72b32c8c32a0/WD-8-003-21-pdf-data.pdf.

Planer-Friedrich, B., & Knobloch, P. (2023). Arsenic mobility in reducing soils under flood conditions. Environmental Geochemistry and Health, 45(2), 321–338.

ELSA-Projekt. (2023). Specialized study on the Ore Mountains region: Arsenic and heavy metal pollution of the Elbe River from old mining operations. https://elsa-elbe.de/massnahmen/fachstudien-neu/fachstudie-quellregion-erzgebirge.html.

Ncube, E. J., et al. (2020). Heavy metal contamination in African floodplains: A review of sources and impacts. Environmental Monitoring and Assessment, 192(5), 1–18. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10661-020-8225-3.

Springer, M. (2022). Heavy metals and toxic inorganic ions in soils. In Environmental Toxicology Compact (pp. 211–234). Springer Verlag.  https://bing.com/search?q=aktuelle+wissenschaftliche+Studien+Starkregen+Altlasten+Schwermetalle.

Ziegler, J., & Schwalb, A. (2024). Arsenic release from heavy rainfall in contaminated river floodplains. Journal of Hydrology, 627, 129–144.

Welt.de Permafrost thaws: Waste that was once frozen is now seeping into the ground. https://www.energiezukunft.eu/klimakrise/fossile-altlasten-schwermetalle-und-radioaktive-abfaelle-tauen-mit-auf/.

Universität Vechta. (2018). Atmospheric deposition of heavy metals in Germany. Research code number 3713 63 253. https://www.umweltbundesamt.de/publikationen/auswirkungen-der-schwermetall-emissionen-auf.

Forschungsprojekt ThinIce. (2024). Thawing Industrial Legacies in the Arctic – A Threat to Permafrost Ecosystems. RWTH Aachen & AWI. https://www.rwth-aachen.de/cms/root/wir/aktuell/pressemitteilungen/august-2024/~bjcctg/warum-der-permafrostboden-gefaehrlich-is/.


This contribution was written by Birgit Bortoluzzi, the creative founder of the “University of Hope” – an independent knowledge platform with a mission: to make resilience, education, and compassion visible and audible in a complex world.