This story was originally published by High Country News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration.

People weren’t the only ones fleeing fast-moving flames and hot embers as deadly wildfires burned down entire neighborhoods in Los Angeles beginning on Tuesday night and ongoing as of publication. Footage from NBC LA showed a fawn with singed fur running down the middle of a deserted street in Altadena with no doe in sight as the Eaton Fire burned. Later that night, camera crews from ABC 7 spotted a mountain lion and two cubs running across Topanga Canyon Boulevard away from the Palisades Fire.

The fires, which were still blazing as of Tuesday, have killed at least 24 people and damaged or destroyed more than 13,000 structures throughout greater Los Angeles. High Country News talked with Miguel Ordeñana, a wildlife biologist and environmental educator at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County, about the compounding threats wildlife fleeing wildfires face, and what people can do to help. Bobcats, cougars, coyotes, birds, bats and more all live in the region. Slow-moving creatures like snails and salamanders, wildlife that require specific habitats, nocturnal critters forced to move during the daytime, and animals with young are some of the most vulnerable. “I think a lot of people don’t think about our neighborhoods as ecosystems and habitats, but here, they really are,” Ordeñana said.

This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. 

When it comes to wildlife, what are some of the most important short-term threats? Smoke inhalation? Burns? Habitat destruction? 

Miguel Ordeñana: It’s this domino effect that people don’t think about. Yes, they get physically burned or injured or killed by the fire itself. Just like us, they suffer from smoke-inhalation problems. But then, once you get a step beyond that, there are so many impacts that the fire can have on their population’s sustainability. You might not see the immediate effects right now, but you might see it within a few months or years. 

Territorial animals, especially, are wary of going anywhere outside the territory because of the social dynamics they have within their populations. It takes a lot for them to decide to risk their lives to leave. It’s a very vulnerable situation for them because they picked that territory for a reason. Now, they’re forced to evacuate those areas because of the fire and go somewhere with unknown dangers. For instance, if you’re a bobcat with kits, you might go to a coyote hotspot, and that’s where the coyotes are waiting to pounce. That’s why you didn’t choose that territory in the first place. It’s putting animals in really bad spots, especially with their young.

How are the Palisades and Eaton fires different from other wildfires? 

What’s so unique about this fire, and why it’s so devastating to not just wildlife and habitat, but also people, is that it’s spread into so many human structures. Even the most resilient species that are able to cohabitate in urban areas with people are losing their refuge. 

You study bats, among other animals. Are there any specific concerns for them? 

There are only so many places that they’re able to survive. Already, even when there’s no fires, they’re having to use the freeway underpasses. And if those places are getting burned and aren’t safe anymore—whether that’s trees or roofs—then it’s going to be really tough for them to survive. Yes, they can fly, but fly where? These unexpected events can be really devastating to the population. 

What are the long-term concerns when it comes to habitat in the area? 

[One] thing that comes to mind is the hard work of land managers that have been conserving habitat, creating habitat linkages and corridors and restoring habitat in affected areas. These are a lot of volunteer efforts as well. All of that is going up in flames.

I’ve seen suggestions that people leave out extra water in their yard for wildlife passing through right now. What else can people do to help? 

Stay vigilant and be aware that animals are being affected. If you see animals in distress in places that you don’t normally see them, you hopefully have a little bit more tolerance. That doesn’t mean you intervene specifically but call a professional, and hopefully they have the capacity. Know the number to your local animal rehabilitator. 

Is there anything else you’d like to add? 

Recovery is the next step. Recovery of our livelihoods and our homes and all that is very important and the first priority. But part of bringing back L.A. is making sure that we’re also considering wildlife, nature and habitat. Because if that doesn’t come back, and that’s not being supported, then L.A. is not going to be what it was. It’s already not going to be what it was.

The Los Angeles Natural History Museum’s community science team is encouraging Angelinos to document how wildlife are responding to the Los Angeles area wildfires. You can learn more about the project and submit observations here.

This story, which was updated to reflect current death and property tolls, is part of High Country News’ Conservation Beyond Boundaries project, which is supported by the BAND Foundation. 

This story was originally published by High Country News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration.

In Southern California, December wildfires are somewhat uncommon, but not completely out of the norm. And this year, extremely dry conditions and strong Santa Ana winds created the perfect recipe for dangerous late-year fires.

On the night of December 9, the Franklin Fire sparked in the hills above Malibu, tearing through about 3,000 acres in just 24 hours. As of midday on December 12, the fire was less than 10 percent contained, burning just over 4,000 acres and destroying at least seven structures.

Last month, the Mountain Fire ignited under similar conditions in Ventura County, growing to 1,000 acres in the first hour alone. Within two days, it was over 20,000 acres; 240 structures were destroyed before firefighters contained it in early December.

And it still hasn’t rained—not since the Mountain Fire, nor throughout the entire fall.

It’s true that Santa Ana winds—dry winds that blow from the high desert out to the coast and bring low humidity, at times under 10 percent—routinely pick up in the fall and winter. But what’s less normal is the lack of precipitation gripping Southern California right now, even though the region isn’t technically in a drought yet.

A downtown Los Angeles weather station has only recorded 5.7 inches of rain this year, and not even a quarter-inch has fallen in December, which is usually the middle of the region’s wet season. Most years would have seen three or more wet days by this time, enough to curb some wildfire risk; about 90 percent of the region’s rainfall falls between October and the end of April.

“We are still waiting for the onset of the wet season in that part of the state, which would meaningfully wet the fuels and put the threat of large fires to bed,” said John Abatzoglou, a climatology professor at the University of California, Merced.

In wetter years, the windy season presents a lower fire risk. But now, “when ignitions and wind collide,” as Abatzoglou put it, the landscape is primed for fire. Dry grass and shrubs are ready to burn, and the fire danger forecast by the Los Angeles County Fire Department on Dec. 11, the day the fire grew significantly, was high or very high throughout the Los Angeles Basin, Santa Monica Mountains, and Santa Clarita Valley.

High winds coinciding with bone-dry vegetation is not just a problem for Southern California. Dry conditions raise wildfire risk across the country—during the East Coast’s spring and fall fire seasons, for example. And winter fires have erupted elsewhere in the West: Colorado’s fast-moving Marshall Fire sparked on December 30 in 2021, morphing from a small grass fire to a suburban conflagration—one that ultimately burned over 1,000 homes—in just an hour.

The winds will die down and rain will eventually return to Southern California, but this one-two punch of high wind and parched landscapes will recur and intensify in the future. Climate change projections suggest Southern California’s wet season will narrow, and its rainy season arrive later. In fact, this is already happening: Rainfall data from the past six decades documents an increasingly delayed rainy season.

“There is already an observed trend towards a later onset of the rainy season, not just in Southern California, but also in other parts of the state,” Swain said.

While this trend won’t repeat itself every year—California received record-breaking rain from a tropical storm in August 2023, short-circuiting the wind/dryness pattern—it’s becoming increasingly prominent. This year, Southern California and the Southwest experienced a September heatwave instead.

Some preliminary evidence suggests that the Santa Ana winds may decrease as the climate warms, but researchers are still figuring out the details. So far, though, that doesn’t appear to be true in early winter, before the wet season starts and when fires are most worrisome. Subsequent research by the same scientists found that while cold winds may decrease, hot winds show no shifts in a warming world. Bottom line: Californians can’t count on slower wind speeds to save them from winter wildfire risk, especially in a hotter, drier world.

This year echoed the fall and winter of 2017 in Southern California, when an unusually warm fall and near record-low precipitation dried out vegetation just in time for the winds to arrive. Six wildfires sparked in four days, burning nearly a quarter-million acres in Ventura and Santa Barbara. The Thomas Fire—at the time, the state’s largest wildfire—burned over 280,000 acres and raged into the winter. The later the rains start, the more likely wind events will produce extreme fire risk well into December. “We do expect to see that more in a warming climate, and with greater intensity in terms of the dryness,” Swain said.

This story was originally published by High Country News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration.

In Southern California, December wildfires are somewhat uncommon, but not completely out of the norm. And this year, extremely dry conditions and strong Santa Ana winds created the perfect recipe for dangerous late-year fires.

On the night of December 9, the Franklin Fire sparked in the hills above Malibu, tearing through about 3,000 acres in just 24 hours. As of midday on December 12, the fire was less than 10 percent contained, burning just over 4,000 acres and destroying at least seven structures.

Last month, the Mountain Fire ignited under similar conditions in Ventura County, growing to 1,000 acres in the first hour alone. Within two days, it was over 20,000 acres; 240 structures were destroyed before firefighters contained it in early December.

And it still hasn’t rained—not since the Mountain Fire, nor throughout the entire fall.

It’s true that Santa Ana winds—dry winds that blow from the high desert out to the coast and bring low humidity, at times under 10 percent—routinely pick up in the fall and winter. But what’s less normal is the lack of precipitation gripping Southern California right now, even though the region isn’t technically in a drought yet.

A downtown Los Angeles weather station has only recorded 5.7 inches of rain this year, and not even a quarter-inch has fallen in December, which is usually the middle of the region’s wet season. Most years would have seen three or more wet days by this time, enough to curb some wildfire risk; about 90 percent of the region’s rainfall falls between October and the end of April.

“We are still waiting for the onset of the wet season in that part of the state, which would meaningfully wet the fuels and put the threat of large fires to bed,” said John Abatzoglou, a climatology professor at the University of California, Merced.

In wetter years, the windy season presents a lower fire risk. But now, “when ignitions and wind collide,” as Abatzoglou put it, the landscape is primed for fire. Dry grass and shrubs are ready to burn, and the fire danger forecast by the Los Angeles County Fire Department on Dec. 11, the day the fire grew significantly, was high or very high throughout the Los Angeles Basin, Santa Monica Mountains, and Santa Clarita Valley.

High winds coinciding with bone-dry vegetation is not just a problem for Southern California. Dry conditions raise wildfire risk across the country—during the East Coast’s spring and fall fire seasons, for example. And winter fires have erupted elsewhere in the West: Colorado’s fast-moving Marshall Fire sparked on December 30 in 2021, morphing from a small grass fire to a suburban conflagration—one that ultimately burned over 1,000 homes—in just an hour.

The winds will die down and rain will eventually return to Southern California, but this one-two punch of high wind and parched landscapes will recur and intensify in the future. Climate change projections suggest Southern California’s wet season will narrow, and its rainy season arrive later. In fact, this is already happening: Rainfall data from the past six decades documents an increasingly delayed rainy season.

“There is already an observed trend towards a later onset of the rainy season, not just in Southern California, but also in other parts of the state,” Swain said.

While this trend won’t repeat itself every year—California received record-breaking rain from a tropical storm in August 2023, short-circuiting the wind/dryness pattern—it’s becoming increasingly prominent. This year, Southern California and the Southwest experienced a September heatwave instead.

Some preliminary evidence suggests that the Santa Ana winds may decrease as the climate warms, but researchers are still figuring out the details. So far, though, that doesn’t appear to be true in early winter, before the wet season starts and when fires are most worrisome. Subsequent research by the same scientists found that while cold winds may decrease, hot winds show no shifts in a warming world. Bottom line: Californians can’t count on slower wind speeds to save them from winter wildfire risk, especially in a hotter, drier world.

This year echoed the fall and winter of 2017 in Southern California, when an unusually warm fall and near record-low precipitation dried out vegetation just in time for the winds to arrive. Six wildfires sparked in four days, burning nearly a quarter-million acres in Ventura and Santa Barbara. The Thomas Fire—at the time, the state’s largest wildfire—burned over 280,000 acres and raged into the winter. The later the rains start, the more likely wind events will produce extreme fire risk well into December. “We do expect to see that more in a warming climate, and with greater intensity in terms of the dryness,” Swain said.