Questões de Inglês

Re-Planting a Forest, One Drone at a Time

 

That funny little buzz you hear in the forest may not just be the hum of summer insects. In the near future it could be a small fleet of drones, coming to replant and restore forests that have been stripped of trees by industrial-scale deforestation.

It’s all part of an ambitious plan by BioCarbon Engineering, a U.K.-based startup on a global mission to battle widespread clear-cutting, which strips more than 26 billion trees off the planet each year. CEO Lauren Fletcher, who spent 20 years as an engineer with NASA, says the only way to fight industrial-scale deforestation is with industrial-scale reforestation. Their idea: plant 1 billion trees a year. The first targets are in South Africa and the Amazonian jungles, both of which have suffered from widespread forest eradication.

BioCarbon’s reforestation scheme is simple and efficient. Here’s a quick look at how it plans to deploy its drone fleet:

 

1 Do a 3-D aerial survey. First, drones are sent to fly over a potential planting zone, snapping photos that create 3-D maps of the area to be reforested. The number of drones will vary depending up on the size of the seeding.

2 Create a seeding plan. Once all that terrain data has been analyzed, it then generates a seeding pattern that best suits the terrain.

3 Load the seed pods. The drones, which are equipped with guidance and control software, carry pressurized canisters of seed pods with germinated seeds immersed in a nutrient-rich gel.

4 Hover and plant. Flying at a height of 1 or 2 meters, the drones follow the planting patterns, firing the biodegradable seed pods down to the ground. The pods break open upon impact, allowing the germinated seed a chance to take root.

5 Monitor growth. After planting, the drones do low-level flights to assess the health of the sprouts and saplings.

 

Such “precision forestry,” as BioCarbon calls it, is extremely efficient. A farmer might hand plant as many as 3,000 seeds a day; Fletcher says his drones can drop up to 36,000 seed pods daily, often in areas where a human can’t reach. Working with local ecologists, BioCarbon will use the drones to spread a variety of tree species, as well as microorganisms and fungi designed to improve the soil quality. “The central focus is ecosystem restoration,” Fletcher says.

On a planetary climatological scale, Morton notes that “tropical deforestation plays a big role in global climate cycles,” claiming the accelerated pace of cutting and burning of forests accounted for 20 percent of greenhouse gas emissions in the 1990s.

Fletcher and his team want to help reverse that trend. “By planting at the scale we’re looking at,” he says, “we can make a real long-term impact. We hope to do a lot of good in the world.”

(Adapted from https://www.wired.com/brandlab/2015/07/re-planting-forest-one-drone-time/. Access on 22/8/2017)

The words buzz and hum both represent:

Re-Planting a Forest, One Drone at a Time

 

That funny little buzz you hear in the forest may not just be the hum of summer insects. In the near future it could be a small fleet of drones, coming to replant and restore forests that have been stripped of trees by industrial-scale deforestation.

It’s all part of an ambitious plan by BioCarbon Engineering, a U.K.-based startup on a global mission to battle widespread clear-cutting, which strips more than 26 billion trees off the planet each year. CEO Lauren Fletcher, who spent 20 years as an engineer with NASA, says the only way to fight industrial-scale deforestation is with industrial-scale reforestation. Their idea: plant 1 billion trees a year. The first targets are in South Africa and the Amazonian jungles, both of which have suffered from widespread forest eradication.

BioCarbon’s reforestation scheme is simple and efficient. Here’s a quick look at how it plans to deploy its drone fleet:

 

1 Do a 3-D aerial survey. First, drones are sent to fly over a potential planting zone, snapping photos that create 3-D maps of the area to be reforested. The number of drones will vary depending up on the size of the seeding.

2 Create a seeding plan. Once all that terrain data has been analyzed, it then generates a seeding pattern that best suits the terrain.

3 Load the seed pods. The drones, which are equipped with guidance and control software, carry pressurized canisters of seed pods with germinated seeds immersed in a nutrient-rich gel.

4 Hover and plant. Flying at a height of 1 or 2 meters, the drones follow the planting patterns, firing the biodegradable seed pods down to the ground. The pods break open upon impact, allowing the germinated seed a chance to take root.

5 Monitor growth. After planting, the drones do low-level flights to assess the health of the sprouts and saplings.

 

Such “precision forestry,” as BioCarbon calls it, is extremely efficient. A farmer might hand plant as many as 3,000 seeds a day; Fletcher says his drones can drop up to 36,000 seed pods daily, often in areas where a human can’t reach. Working with local ecologists, BioCarbon will use the drones to spread a variety of tree species, as well as microorganisms and fungi designed to improve the soil quality. “The central focus is ecosystem restoration,” Fletcher says.

On a planetary climatological scale, Morton notes that “tropical deforestation plays a big role in global climate cycles,” claiming the accelerated pace of cutting and burning of forests accounted for 20 percent of greenhouse gas emissions in the 1990s.

Fletcher and his team want to help reverse that trend. “By planting at the scale we’re looking at,” he says, “we can make a real long-term impact. We hope to do a lot of good in the world.”

(Adapted from https://www.wired.com/brandlab/2015/07/re-planting-forest-one-drone-time/. Access on 22/8/2017)

Considering the text, fill the parenthesis with T (true) or F (false):

 

( ) The drones can drop seeds in places which are hard to access.

( ) The drones will make a lot of noise, which can pose a risk to nature.

( ) Fletcher and his team expect that the drones will have a positive impact in the long run

( ) The drones can only help spread tree species.

( ) Despite being simple, BioCarbon’s reforestation scheme is efficient.

The correct sequence, from top to bottom is:

View from the Rio favelas: 'We're often scared to leave the house in case we're hit by a stray bullet'

 

A year has gone by since the Olympic Games. Only 147 of those 365 days ended without the residents of Complexo do Alemão hearing gunshots. After the promises of hope and the Games’ legacy of peace, 218 days were accompanied by a soundtrack of gunfire.

On 218 days we were afraid we wouldn’t make it home alive; we were scared to leave the house in case we were hit by a stray bullet; on 218 days we were afraid that the walls of our homes might be hit. To pretend that we were not in a war zone, the military police painted their armoured military tanks – popularly called caveirão, or “big skull” – white.

For a long time I’ve wondered about the reason for the conflict and danger in the favelas of Rio, the same places that hold so much shared affection, culture, art and memory.

Since the Olympics, residents of the Complexo do Alemão have been afraid of organising a cultural event in the neighbourhood square, or of people gathering outside because an intense shootout might happen without prior notice, with no chance to find protection. It has been 218 days of fear.

All eyes – and investments – were turned to Brazil when it hosted, over 10 years, three mega sporting events. But the country has failed to keep its promises of peace after the 2007 Pan-American Games, the 2014 World Cup and the 2016 Olympic Games.

Before the Olympics, the state was completely absent in the favela. Back then we had no cable car – now we do, but it doesn’t work. We did not have family clinics – now we do, but without medical care. There were no police – now there are, and we live with daily shootings. What have the poorest received as a result of the Games? On television, I see only news of corruption.

Brazil is at war, some say. A war on the poor, justified by drugs. A war that justifies, for many (but not for me) the presence of the Brazilian army in the streets of the city. The beauty of Rio’s natural landscapes contrasts with the conflict of our daily lives, militarised by the government.

We need to talk about the relationship between violence and drugs. Young people from different favelas are now coming together to think about strategies that we hope can feed into public policies on drugs in Brazil. The #Movimentos movement – which runs discussions and seminars for young people – was created because it isn’t possible to deal with the drugs issue without the input of those who live with the consequences of failed policies.

As other countries move towards resolving the issue in a serious way, investing in research and prevention mechanisms in public health services, Brazil invests in more weapons and repression that result in an increase of death and incarceration – particularly among people who are poor, black, young and living in favelas.

But despite all the fear, all the chaos, we continue to conquer the world, occupying the spaces that we have been historically denied. The Coletivo Papo Reto (Straight Talk Collective) has created a calendar that celebrates the good news and achievements of the people who live in Complexo do Alemão. Many people may not understand what it is that motivates us in the midst of this chaos and fear. I don’t know either – but I feel that I must keep going.

(Adapted from https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2017/aug/19/rio-voices-view-from-the-favelas-olympics-they-promised-a-legacy-of-peace-but-brazil-is-now-at-war. Access on 22/8/2017)

Considering the text, fill the parenthesis with T (true) or F (false):

 

( ) The author agrees with the presence of the Brazilian army in the streets.

( ) The #Movimentos movement was created to include the input of the population in the issue of drug violence.

( ) The author thinks it’s important to talk about the relationship between violence and drugs.

( ) The author knows what motivates people in the midst of fear.

( ) Brazil is investing in research and prevention mechanisms in public health services.

The correct sequence, from top to bottom is:

View from the Rio favelas: 'We're often scared to leave the house in case we're hit by a stray bullet'

 

A year has gone by since the Olympic Games. Only 147 of those 365 days ended without the residents of Complexo do Alemão hearing gunshots. After the promises of hope and the Games’ legacy of peace, 218 days were accompanied by a soundtrack of gunfire.

On 218 days we were afraid we wouldn’t make it home alive; we were scared to leave the house in case we were hit by a stray bullet; on 218 days we were afraid that the walls of our homes might be hit. To pretend that we were not in a war zone, the military police painted their armoured military tanks – popularly called caveirão, or “big skull” – white.

For a long time I’ve wondered about the reason for the conflict and danger in the favelas of Rio, the same places that hold so much shared affection, culture, art and memory.

Since the Olympics, residents of the Complexo do Alemão have been afraid of organising a cultural event in the neighbourhood square, or of people gathering outside because an intense shootout might happen without prior notice, with no chance to find protection. It has been 218 days of fear.

All eyes – and investments – were turned to Brazil when it hosted, over 10 years, three mega sporting events. But the country has failed to keep its promises of peace after the 2007 Pan-American Games, the 2014 World Cup and the 2016 Olympic Games.

Before the Olympics, the state was completely absent in the favela. Back then we had no cable car – now we do, but it doesn’t work. We did not have family clinics – now we do, but without medical care. There were no police – now there are, and we live with daily shootings. What have the poorest received as a result of the Games? On television, I see only news of corruption.

Brazil is at war, some say. A war on the poor, justified by drugs. A war that justifies, for many (but not for me) the presence of the Brazilian army in the streets of the city. The beauty of Rio’s natural landscapes contrasts with the conflict of our daily lives, militarised by the government.

We need to talk about the relationship between violence and drugs. Young people from different favelas are now coming together to think about strategies that we hope can feed into public policies on drugs in Brazil. The #Movimentos movement – which runs discussions and seminars for young people – was created because it isn’t possible to deal with the drugs issue without the input of those who live with the consequences of failed policies.

As other countries move towards resolving the issue in a serious way, investing in research and prevention mechanisms in public health services, Brazil invests in more weapons and repression that result in an increase of death and incarceration – particularly among people who are poor, black, young and living in favelas.

But despite all the fear, all the chaos, we continue to conquer the world, occupying the spaces that we have been historically denied. The Coletivo Papo Reto (Straight Talk Collective) has created a calendar that celebrates the good news and achievements of the people who live in Complexo do Alemão. Many people may not understand what it is that motivates us in the midst of this chaos and fear. I don’t know either – but I feel that I must keep going.

(Adapted from https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2017/aug/19/rio-voices-view-from-the-favelas-olympics-they-promised-a-legacy-of-peace-but-brazil-is-now-at-war. Access on 22/8/2017)

The author talks about the favelas before and after the Olympics. Regarding this, it is correct to say that

View from the Rio favelas: 'We're often scared to leave the house in case we're hit by a stray bullet'

 

A year has gone by since the Olympic Games. Only 147 of those 365 days ended without the residents of Complexo do Alemão hearing gunshots. After the promises of hope and the Games’ legacy of peace, 218 days were accompanied by a soundtrack of gunfire.

On 218 days we were afraid we wouldn’t make it home alive; we were scared to leave the house in case we were hit by a stray bullet; on 218 days we were afraid that the walls of our homes might be hit. To pretend that we were not in a war zone, the military police painted their armoured military tanks – popularly called caveirão, or “big skull” – white.

For a long time I’ve wondered about the reason for the conflict and danger in the favelas of Rio, the same places that hold so much shared affection, culture, art and memory.

Since the Olympics, residents of the Complexo do Alemão have been afraid of organising a cultural event in the neighbourhood square, or of people gathering outside because an intense shootout might happen without prior notice, with no chance to find protection. It has been 218 days of fear.

All eyes – and investments – were turned to Brazil when it hosted, over 10 years, three mega sporting events. But the country has failed to keep its promises of peace after the 2007 Pan-American Games, the 2014 World Cup and the 2016 Olympic Games.

Before the Olympics, the state was completely absent in the favela. Back then we had no cable car – now we do, but it doesn’t work. We did not have family clinics – now we do, but without medical care. There were no police – now there are, and we live with daily shootings. What have the poorest received as a result of the Games? On television, I see only news of corruption.

Brazil is at war, some say. A war on the poor, justified by drugs. A war that justifies, for many (but not for me) the presence of the Brazilian army in the streets of the city. The beauty of Rio’s natural landscapes contrasts with the conflict of our daily lives, militarised by the government.

We need to talk about the relationship between violence and drugs. Young people from different favelas are now coming together to think about strategies that we hope can feed into public policies on drugs in Brazil. The #Movimentos movement – which runs discussions and seminars for young people – was created because it isn’t possible to deal with the drugs issue without the input of those who live with the consequences of failed policies.

As other countries move towards resolving the issue in a serious way, investing in research and prevention mechanisms in public health services, Brazil invests in more weapons and repression that result in an increase of death and incarceration – particularly among people who are poor, black, young and living in favelas.

But despite all the fear, all the chaos, we continue to conquer the world, occupying the spaces that we have been historically denied. The Coletivo Papo Reto (Straight Talk Collective) has created a calendar that celebrates the good news and achievements of the people who live in Complexo do Alemão. Many people may not understand what it is that motivates us in the midst of this chaos and fear. I don’t know either – but I feel that I must keep going.

(Adapted from https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2017/aug/19/rio-voices-view-from-the-favelas-olympics-they-promised-a-legacy-of-peace-but-brazil-is-now-at-war. Access on 22/8/2017)

According to the author, why did the military police paint their armoured military tanks?

View from the Rio favelas: 'We're often scared to leave the house in case we're hit by a stray bullet'

 

A year has gone by since the Olympic Games. Only 147 of those 365 days ended without the residents of Complexo do Alemão hearing gunshots. After the promises of hope and the Games’ legacy of peace, 218 days were accompanied by a soundtrack of gunfire.

On 218 days we were afraid we wouldn’t make it home alive; we were scared to leave the house in case we were hit by a stray bullet; on 218 days we were afraid that the walls of our homes might be hit. To pretend that we were not in a war zone, the military police painted their armoured military tanks – popularly called caveirão, or “big skull” – white.

For a long time I’ve wondered about the reason for the conflict and danger in the favelas of Rio, the same places that hold so much shared affection, culture, art and memory.

Since the Olympics, residents of the Complexo do Alemão have been afraid of organising a cultural event in the neighbourhood square, or of people gathering outside because an intense shootout might happen without prior notice, with no chance to find protection. It has been 218 days of fear.

All eyes – and investments – were turned to Brazil when it hosted, over 10 years, three mega sporting events. But the country has failed to keep its promises of peace after the 2007 Pan-American Games, the 2014 World Cup and the 2016 Olympic Games.

Before the Olympics, the state was completely absent in the favela. Back then we had no cable car – now we do, but it doesn’t work. We did not have family clinics – now we do, but without medical care. There were no police – now there are, and we live with daily shootings. What have the poorest received as a result of the Games? On television, I see only news of corruption.

Brazil is at war, some say. A war on the poor, justified by drugs. A war that justifies, for many (but not for me) the presence of the Brazilian army in the streets of the city. The beauty of Rio’s natural landscapes contrasts with the conflict of our daily lives, militarised by the government.

We need to talk about the relationship between violence and drugs. Young people from different favelas are now coming together to think about strategies that we hope can feed into public policies on drugs in Brazil. The #Movimentos movement – which runs discussions and seminars for young people – was created because it isn’t possible to deal with the drugs issue without the input of those who live with the consequences of failed policies.

As other countries move towards resolving the issue in a serious way, investing in research and prevention mechanisms in public health services, Brazil invests in more weapons and repression that result in an increase of death and incarceration – particularly among people who are poor, black, young and living in favelas.

But despite all the fear, all the chaos, we continue to conquer the world, occupying the spaces that we have been historically denied. The Coletivo Papo Reto (Straight Talk Collective) has created a calendar that celebrates the good news and achievements of the people who live in Complexo do Alemão. Many people may not understand what it is that motivates us in the midst of this chaos and fear. I don’t know either – but I feel that I must keep going.

(Adapted from https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2017/aug/19/rio-voices-view-from-the-favelas-olympics-they-promised-a-legacy-of-peace-but-brazil-is-now-at-war. Access on 22/8/2017)

The main objective of the article is to