A Riverine Flooding Cookbook, Volume 1: Meteorological Floods

Legendary fluvial geomorphologist Reds Wolman once said “Floods come from too much water,” and that’s the phenomenon distilled to its core essence. But this bit of wisdom doesn’t give us much to go on if we want to understand what creates floods or why some areas are more flood-prone than others. It’s the cooking equivalent to “Bread comes from flour.” How do we turn the flour into bread? How do we turn too much water into a flood?

In this blog post, I’ll create a cookbook for riverine floods, explaining the different phenomenon that generate floods and linking to examples that I or others have written about. I’ll be drawing heavily from the framework of a 2002 book chapter by O’Connor, Grant, and Costa called “The Geology and Geography of Floods” and as such I won’t be focused on the particulars of flood hydraulics or routing as the meteorologic, hydrologic, and geologic factors that are preconditions for floods. In a sense then, I guess I’m writing ingredients lists, not the full cookbook.

The first and most obvious ingredient you need for a flood is water. A lot of water. But if you have a lot of water draining slowly over time, that’s not a flood. It’s a river. So we need to have a lot of water, stored somewhere, and then release it quickly. Since the ways water can be released quickly are closely tied to where the water is stored, let’s start with storage.

Water can be stored as vapor in the atmosphere, liquid at the earth surface (in some sort of reservoir), or solid at the earth surface (i.e., ice or snow). That gives us a universe of three main types of floods: meteorological floods, dam break floods, and snow or ice melt floods. But those types are not absolute and bounded. You can have cross-overs. It can rain so hard as to burst a dam or rain on top of snow, melting the snow. But some floods are caused simply by too much rain, and these meteorological floods are the most common. That’s what I’ll cover in this blog post. (Look for volume 2 of the cookbook to cover how terrestrial water storage can lead to floods at some point after the semester is over.)

Meteorologial floods

Meteorological floods are closely tied to the four mechanisms of atmospheric lifting (convection, frontal systems, convergence, and orographic) that produce cooling, saturation, and precipitation. As climate change warms the atmosphere, enabling it to hold more water, and shifts atmospheric circulation patterns, there is the potential for more severe flooding and flooding in new places to result from any of these lifting mechanisms.

Convective rainfall + steep topography +/- human land use change = localized flash flooding

Convective lifting is associated with localized thunderstorms. These storms affect small areas (25 km2) over short time scales (a few minutes to a few hours). In these short periods, convective thunderstorms can produce staggeringly high rainfall intensities. (50 to >100 mm/hr) that generate localized flooding. For example, in July 2016, a convective storm dumped ~114 mm (4.5″) in an hour and 150 mm total on Ellicott City, near Baltimore, Maryland. This intense rainfall produced flash flooding that caused millions of dollars in damage and several deaths. Unbelievably, less than 2 years later, another convective storm dumped 220 mm of rain on the same area and the town flooded again.

Red-green map of precipitation showing some rain fell overmuh of the Baltimore-Washington area, but the most extreme precipitation was near Ellicott City

Precipitation that generated the 2016 Ellicott City flood. Ellicott City is in the reddest area, just to the west of Baltimore. (Image from the NWS.)

Clearly, convective storms can produce floods, and Ellicott City has terrible luck. But is it all bad luck? While the rainfall amounts from these storms are really big, if they’d happened in flat, sandy, forested areas, the resulting floods would have been much smaller. Unfortunately, historic downtown Ellicott City sits at the bottom on a locally steep valley that gathers runoff from three little tributary streams. And upstream, there is a lot of urban development. Ellicott City’s floods illustrate that the topography matters – the faster water runs down slope and gets collected into channels, the worse the flood will be, because more water will be entering the stream at once. Land use also matters, but for really extreme events, its signal is a little harder to parse, because if it rains hard enough or long enough, few landscapes will be able to infiltrate all of the water. Land use matters more for small floods.

Mesoscale convective complexes = flash flooding in multiple streams + downstream floods

Some convective storms are much larger than normal, and we call these “mesoscale convective systems” or “mesoscale convective complexes.” Mesoscale systems can have diameters of 10s to 100s of kilometers, and they can be major flood generators with impacts over much larger area than the isolated convective storms. The worst floods occur when large-scale atmospheric circulation patterns cause a mesoscale convective systems to stall out over a particular area, with thunderstorms popping up over and over again for hours or days. Isolated convective storms generally only cause floods for small streams, but an important feature of floods caused by mesoscale convective systems is that they affect more than one localized area, so they can create floods on larger river systems within or downstream of the area where rainfall occur.

A stalled out mesoscale convective system over Colorado’s Front Range in September 2013 caused over 450 mm of rainfall in one week, resulting in over $2 billion dollars in flood damage and hundreds of landslides. Flooding started in mountain canyons where over 300 mm of rain fell in one 24 hour period alone. As all of that water drained onto the flat-lying plains, flooding continued for days in the South Platte River and its tributaries. Flooding occurred because of infiltration-excess and saturation-excess overland flow. Rainfall probabilities for this event are estimated to be >1/1000 years (though that’s extrapolating well beyond the data), but flooding probabilities are not quite that extreme, with most of the places where gages exist or estimates made having floods with a 1/50 to 1/500 year probability.

Eroded road, house off its foundation, flooded river

Damage from the 2013 Colorado floods in Boulder County, Colorado. (FEMA photo via Wikipedia)

flooded highway and fields

Flooding near Greeley, Colorado from the South Platte River, September 19, 2013 (EPA photo via Flickr)

As with isolated convective systems, mesoscale systems can create bigger floods where topography is steep and there are lots of channels to quickly move precipitation falling on land into a stream network, resulting in more water arriving in the same part of a river at the same time.

Tropical and extra-tropical cyclones = flooding for miles and days

Tropical cyclone is the general term for hurricanes (wind speeds >74 mph), tropical storms (wind speeds 39-73 mph), and tropical depressions (wind speeds

Tropical cyclones are notorious flood generators, and inland flooding is the leading cause of death from these storms in the US. Hurricane categories only consider wind speed, not rainfall, so people may under-estimate the hazard associated with lower category storms. Immense rainfall totals can result as moisture is supplied to the storm by nearby ocean waters or by flooded and saturated soils on land. This makes slow moving hurricanes particularly dangerous flood generators, and it’s a reason that people are very concerned with the possibility that climate change could be contributing to slower hurricane movement after landfall. The most sobering example of slow-moving hurricane flooding in the recent past is Hurricane Harvey and its impacts on Houston in 2017. I wrote about the climate change connection and the land use connection at the time. Many fingers were pointed as Houston’s urban sprawl for worsening the disaster, and in some ways that’s fair (houses in floodplains are bad), but in other ways it’s not (almost nowhere can receive 1270 mm of rainfall in a few days without experiencing saturation and flooding).

Isohyetal map showing over 40" of rain in some areas

Rainfall from Hurricane Harvey in the Houston area. By David M. Roth; NOAA WPC – http://www.wpc.ncep.noaa.gov/tropical/rain/harvey2017.html, Public Domain.

When tropical cyclones produce flooding in flat areas, like coastal plains along the East Coast and Gulf of Mexico, the floods can last for weeks. We’ve seen this repeatedly in the US, including prominently in North Carolina in 2016, following Hurricane Matthew.

Where tropical cyclones meet steep topography, spectacular flood destruction can result, such as when Hurricane Irene hit Vermont in 2011. Even though Irene dumped less rain on Vermont than where it first made landfall in North Carolina, the flood effects were much worse. A similar phenomenon happened just a week later in the Susquehanna River watershed, as a result of Tropical Storm Lee. In fact, those two storms prompted my first “recipe” for flooding: Take a tropical cyclone and add steep topography.

Atmospheric rivers + orographic lifting = a major source of floods for California and the Pacific Northwest

Atmospheric rivers are narrow bands of concentrated moisture coming off the ocean and onto land. They are an area of active research as we increasingly recognize how important they are for generating floods and building snowpacks in the Western US. Here’s a great explainer video:

A key thing about atmospheric rivers as flood generators is not just how much water they carry, it’s what happens as they are orographically lifted over steep terrain like the Coast Range, Cascades, and Sierra Nevadas. That lifting and cooling causes the moisture to come out of the sky and fall as rain and snow. If conditions are cold enough to form snow, skiers rejoice and hydrologists and emergency managers let out a sigh of relief. But often, the atmospheric rivers are coming from the tropical ocean, in what we call a “pineapple express”, so the moisture is not just abundant, it’s warm. Then, the precipitation falls as rain, even at high elevations, and we get floods. If an atmospheric river happens after snow accumulates in the mountains, it will melt some or all of the snow and we get even bigger floods.

I’ve written about the effects of atmospheric rivers on Oregon’s Mt. Hood on more than one occasion. Flooding in 2011, was relatively minor as far as these things go. In 2006, a similar storm caused more extensive flooding and landslides on Mt. Hood, affecting my own research. The same storm, caused problems from Central Oregon all the way up to Mt. Rainier, south of Seattle. That gives you some idea of the scale of these systems and their effects.

Californians care a lot about atmospheric rivers, because they depend on mountain snowpacks and reservoirs to provide water for farms and people living in lower, warmer, and drier locations. But too much of a good thing is a flood. And climate change is projected to increase the intensity of atmospheric rivers affecting California and could even set up a scenario called the ARkstorm (for 1/1000 probability, atmospheric river storm). Watch the video below, because the consequences of this possible event are too big just to put into words, and yet, what could happen is based on state-of-the-art science and historical records of the 1861-1862 flood that inundated nearly the entire Central Valley.

Monsoons = Weeks-long rains and sometimes floods

As the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ) shifts north and south across the Equator, the direction of air flow towards it changes too. Whichever way the wind is blowing, where the warm moist air from over the oceans blows onto even hotter land, it rapidly rises, cools, and begins to rain. The seasonally shifting wind direction and associated wet-dry periods is called a monsoon climate, and monsoon climates are particularly pronounced around the Indian Ocean. In the northern hemisphere winter, the ITCZ causes monsoon rains in northern Australia, while in northern hemisphere summer, the rains are affecting south Asia. During the Asian monsoon, orographic effects as air lifts over the Himalayas increase the intensity of the rainfall. If you’ve spent time in the southwestern United States, you may also be familiar with monsoon rains in that region.

Monsoon rains bring an average of 900 mm of rain to India each year. Spread out over the months of June to September, the rains are an important water source for crops, livestock, and humans, and helps offset the opposite season, when hardly any rain falls.

But when monsoon rains come in intense downpours, flooding can result.  Some years, more rain falls or a lot of rain falls in the space of a few weeks, rather than more evenly spread out over months. In ways that we don’t completely understand, climate change seems to be making the monsoon rainfall less moderate and more sporadic. Dry periods interspersed with extreme precipitation periods are becoming more likely and that means that floods are becoming a more frequent part of the monsoon climate.

Monsoon flooding was a major problem in India in 2019, and this article (not by me) does an amazing job of linking monsoon dynamics to climate change and increasing risks experienced by growing urban populations.

In 2010, monsoon flooding hit Pakistan hard. Monsoon rains poured over one mountain region for weeks, causing flooding and landslides, followed by slow downstream flood wave propagation along the Indus River for weeks longer. More than 18 million people were affected by this flood alone, and it appears that the location of the flood-producing rains was shifted relative to historic patterns, yet another flood-related consequence of climate change.

Monsoon flooding along the Chao Phraya River in Thailand, with July 2011 (left) and October 2011 (right) compared. Images are from NASA, via Wikipedia.

Monsoon flooding along the Chao Phraya River in Thailand, with July 2011 (left) and October 2011 (right) compared. Images are from NASA, via Wikipedia.

Important notes and take away points

These aren’t the only ways to cook up floods. First, I’ve only covered meteorological floods on rivers in this post, and then, I haven’t even covered all of those. Frontal systems can produce floods too, particularly if the ground is wet to begin with or if infiltration capacity is low. And rain-on-snow is a significant flood generator (even without the concentrated fire power of an atmospheric river) because the heat from the rain can melt large amounts of snow, dramatically increasing the volume of water contributing to a flood.

Climate oscillations like the El Niño-Southern Oscillation and Pacific Decadal Oscillation will exacerbate these flood generation recipes in some years and some regions, and mute them in other places. The climate oscillations don’t create flooding in-and-of themselves, but they can make things better or worse.

The recipes above will generate floods that vary in space and time scale of impact – from affecting headwater streams for a few hours to affecting huge river basins for months. In general, the highest intensities of rainfall will only affect a fairly small area for a fairly short amount of time, but mechanisms that produce more prolonged rainfall can cause widespread flooding, even if the intensity is lower.

Topography matters. Steep slopes route water quickly into streams producing high peak flows, while flat areas drain slowly resulting in floods that last much longer.

Land use matters – to some extent. In really extreme rainfall, it may make little difference in the peak flow and total flood volume, because the landscape would have been overwhelmed regardless of landcover. For smaller floods, land use, including deforestation and urbanization, definitely matters, and land use also matters quite a bit for things like landslides which often accompany floods.  Regardless of size, a flood is a disaster when people are in the way, and land use is one rough proxy for how many lives and how much property is likely to be affected.

Climate change is affecting the frequency and/or severity of floods across all of these recipes, even if we can’t always detect the signal of climate change in a particular event. In general, we are seeing – and expect to continue to see – increases in extreme rainfall, the key ingredient in all of these recipes. And extreme rainfall intensity is increasing much faster than the overall increase in atmospheric moisture and mean precipitation.  We are also seeing shifts in timing and location of flood-generating storms.

Categories: by Anne, geohazards, hydrology

At subduction zones, feeding a complicated plate means you get complicated earthquake behaviour out

What drives the occurrence of slow-slip events on subduction zones: “earthquakes”: that involve strain release over days and weeks rather than seconds? A new paper…doesn’t really answer that question, but it shows why it’s so complicated to answer. 

The study uses seismic and drill core data to characterise what is entering the subduction zone off the coast of New Zealand, where multiple slow-slip events that involve the shallow part of the subduction thrust have been observed. The idea is that what is about to be fed in to the trench will be similar to what is now just subducted. By sampling what’s on the seafloor, we get some insights into what the rocks currently controlling the behaviour of the subduction thrust are like. 

On a broad scale, there’s a lot of variability to what is being fed in. The incoming plate has a lot of basement topography – it’s an oceanic plateau with lots of volcanic seamounts of various sizes and heights, with volcaniclastic sediments in betweeen. Carbonate-rich deep sea sediments deposited after the plateau formed have buried some but not all of the volcanic topography. 

The drill cores confirm this broader spatial variability: the sequences within the two cores reported, about 15 km apart, varies dramatically, mainly because one samples a seamount and one does not. But within each core, there is also a lot of much smaller-scale variation in the volcanic and carbonate sediments. Big changes in alteration, and therefore important properties like porosity and seismic velocity, vary significantly within a few cm up or down the core. 

What all this means: the geometry of the subduction thrust, and the properties of the rocks involved in faulting, change a lot in quite small area. It’s the geological equivalent of ‘garbage in, garbage out’: feed a subduction zone a complex plate surface, and you get a complex fault zone with complex behaviour.

For more, also read this nice write-up at Eos

Categories: earthquakes, paper reviews, tectonics

Remagnetisation spoils the paleomagnetic party again

Did the Earth have a magnetic field before 3.5 billion years ago? Previous paleomagnetic studies of the world’s oldest mineral grains – the Jack Hills zircons, which have maximum ages of 4.4 billion years – claimed that tiny inclusions of magnetite within those grains had taken a snapshot of a strong geomagnetic field at the time they formed. 

Now, however, a new exhaustive study shows that we still don’t know, because the detected magnetisation came much later. The study shows that the carriers of the putative super-ancient magnetisation are not primary inclusions (crystallised from the melt first before the zircon grew around them), but magnetite formed by alteration later on. How much later? We don’t know. But it could have been any point between 4 billion years ago and today. 

And thus, the state of the magnetic field in the Hadean and Eoarchean goes back to a big question mark. This is disappointing, but not totally unexpected. The fact that most magnetic minerals contain iron, and iron is redox sensitive, is a real bane for studying ancient magnetisations, because there is always the very real prospect that your rock is one age and the magnetisation you are oh-so-carefully measuring is another, younger, age. If you don’t realise this, then you are putting a continent or crustal block in the wrong place, or mischaracterising the magnetic field for the period you’re interested in. I have a certain amount of experience in this particular area.

This is a really nice example of how there is a distinction between ‘good’ data and meaningful data. Sometimes, you can have a really nice, precise measurement that nonetheless leads you completely wrong, because you lack the information to put it in the proper context.

Categories: Archean, deep time, palaeomagic, paper reviews

Zooming out: how climate and landscapes control streamflow generation

As you watched the videos about flow generation mechanisms, one of the things that you should have noticed is that climate and landscape characteristics influence the way water gets to streams. (And the way water gets to streams influences the shape of the hydrograph.)

Putting it together

Below I go through a list of important climate and landscape factors that influence flow generation, but I’m following in well-trodden footsteps in doing so. Dunne and Leopold (1978) created a classic diagram that puts it all together in a really elegant way. I encourage you to refer back to it as you read through the rest of this post and think about how each factor interacts with the rest to produce the streamflow regime that characterizes a watershed.

bivariate plot with boxes

Runoff processes in relation to their major controls. Modified from Figure 9-16 in Dunne and Leopold (1978), by somebody I am not crediting properly because I don’t know who did this version.

Climate

High intensity rainfall is more likely to exceed the infiltration capacity of soils, and lead to infiltration excess overland flow. In semi-arid and arid climates, where it tends to rain infrequently but hard, infiltration excess overland flow can contribute to flash flooding. This can also be true in more humid climates, when low probability, intense deluges occur. Infiltration excess overland flow was probably a major contributor to deadly flash flooding in Ellicott City, Maryland a few years ago, when more than 4.5” of rain fell in less than an hour. [You may want to read my blog post about this extraordinary event. Then contemplate what it means that an almost identical flood happened in the same spot just two years later.]

Rainfall frequency also matters, because it controls how wet the soils are when the next rain storm begins. If soils are fairly damp at the beginning of a storm (they have “high antecedent wetness”), the larger parts of the watershed are more likely to generate saturation overland flow, even if rainfall intensity is low. That’s why, around here, when we we get a series of spring rain storms, the streams get higher with each subsequent storm. If low intensity rain falls infrequently so that there is low antecedent moisture in the soil, much of the water input is likely to be retained in the soil and not even produce much subsurface stormflow. After a long try period, the soil just wets up without producing much stormflow.

Other climate aspects matter too. If you have high potential evapotranspiration, soils will dry out more quickly between storms, reducing the likelihood of saturation. If you have a seasonal snowpack that melts in one big spring thaw, it can saturate the soils and generate overland flow. Perhaps its no coincidence that saturation overland flow was “discovered” in Vermont. Or, if the soils are frozen under the snow, and their infiltration capacity is therefore low, snowmelt can produce infiltration excess overland flow.

Vegetation

To a large extent, vegetation follows climate, but it is also additive. Vegetation can often intercept a large portion of the rainfall, particularly for smaller or lower intensity storms. That reduces the rain hitting the ground, decreasing the likelihood of infiltration excess or saturation overland flow. Vegetation also creates macropores that become preferential flowpaths for water during subsurface stormflow. When land is cleared for urbanization, mining, or agriculture, the interception potential and macropore creation processes are decreased and overland flow becomes more likely — and that’s before we even get to the impacts of the land clearing on infiltration capacity!

Topography

Steep, planar slopes where water in the subsurface is strongly pulled downslope are places that tend to be dominated by subsurface stormflow. Water doesn’t get a chance to stick around long enough to cause saturation very often. Conversely, concave slopes, hillslope hollows, and valley bottoms where topography causes water from large areas to flow towards and concentrate in some spots are places that are more likely to experience saturation and become source areas for streamflow. It doesn’t help that these areas also often have low slopes, which means that they drain more slowly than they would if they were steeper.

This combination of large contributing area and low slope is considered one of the most important predictors of where saturation is likely to occur within a watershed. The formula ln(a/tan B), where a is the upslope contributing area and B (beta) is the local slope angle is called the topographic wetness index. The topographic wetness index underlies the widely used TOPMODEL numerical watershed model and predicts depth to the water table in order to generate overland flow.

DEM coded red to blue, with blue areas in valleys.

Example of the topographic wetness index variation for a small area within the Susquehanna River basin. From Zimmerman and Shallenberger (2016).

Topography has also been shown to be important in explaining the transit time of water through watersheds.

Soils

Soils matter in a lot of ways. Infiltration capacity is important for determining whether infiltration-excess overland flow will occur. Hydraulic conductivity (and its profile with depth) determines how easily water moves through the soil – and therefore how quickly downslope drainage can occur. Depth is important for determining how likely saturation is to occur (deep, high conductivity soils require a lot of water in order to achieve saturation). You won’t be surprised to learn that soil properties have been used as strong predictors of water transit times

I find this flow chart helpful in thinking about the role of soils and topography in controlling streamflow generation processes.

flowchart with 4 endpoints.

HOF is Hortonian (or infiltration excess overland flow). SOF is saturation overland flow. SSF is subsurface stormflow and GW is groundwater. This diagram is simplified from one presented in Schmocker-Fackel et al. (2007).

Geology

The astute geologists among you will be noting that topography and soils are both, in large part, a function of a watershed’s geologic history. Some even say that geology is destiny.

Below the soil, the hydraulic conductivity of the parent material controls how much deep percolation and groundwater flow can occur. If the bedrock has low hydraulic conductivity, then subsurface stormflow can be set up. However, even in low conductivity rocks, fractures can become important flowpaths for groundwater movement that sustain baseflow in streams. If the bedrock or other parent material has very high hydraulic conductivity (like alluvium, limestone, and basalt do), aquifers may feed streams and rivers, even in the near-absence of other flow generating mechanisms. Such groundwater-dominated streams often have very steady baseflow and very muted stormflow responses to precipitation compared to streams fed by other subsurface stormflow, saturation overland flow, or infiltration excess overland flow.

The peculiar hydrology of groundwater-dominated streams and how their flow was regulated by geology was the subject of my PhD. I studied streams in the central Oregon High Cascades, where winter snow and rain recharge aquifers in Quaternary basalt lavas. These basalts have very high hydraulic conductivity and their groundwater feeds huge springs and supports beautiful rivers. Just to the west of the High Cascades, the Western Cascades has Neogene volcanic rocks that with lower hydraulic conductivity. In the Western Cascades landscapes, subsurface stormflow dominates and the hydrographs are much more responsive to winter storms and summer droughts.

Hydrograph of a groundwater dominated vs. a sssf stream

Two streams with adjacent watersheds, similar vegetation and climate, and contrasting geologic history end up with very different hydrographs and transit times.

The Western Cascades landscape is more deeply dissected with steep slopes and deeper, more clay-rich soils than are found in the High Cascades, so that is another proximal control on the Western Cascades hydrology. But we attribute that landscape dissection and soil development to processes related to the slow weathering of the bedrock, altering hydraulic conductivity and with it streamflow generation, in a set of coevolutionary processes.

People

We’ve already alluded to the importance of human activities in altering hydrology and flow generation. Urban areas are characterized by impervious surfaces (pavement and rooftops) that prevent infiltration and promote infiltration-excess overland flow. Mining, military and industrial activities denude the landscape of vegetation and compact the soils, resulting in a greater propensity for overland flow. Forest harvest reduces interception, and can compact the soil. Agricultural practices can radically alter the soil profile, especially when plowing is involved. A compacted layer below the plowing depth can lead to perched saturated zones that can reach the land surface and generate overland flow. And grazing animals compact the soil profile and promote infiltration excess overland flow. Tile drains are giant subsurface preferential flowpaths, just like storm sewers. Basically everything that humans does tends to increase the propensity for rapid drainage of water from the landscape, whether that occurs via overland flow or through anthropogenic macropores (i.e., pipes).

(And that’s what connects what I research now with urban hydrology to the volcano hydrology I used to do…I’m interested in how water moves through landscapes and what that means for streams.)

Categories: by Anne, hydrology, teaching

How flow generation controls stream hydrographs

The big picture

Now that you’ve learned all about the four different ways to generate streamflow, you might be asking yourself why they matter. Here’s why it matters: The streamflow generation mechanisms working in the landscape control how quickly the stream responds to precipitation – and how quickly the stream responds to precipitation controls how high the peak flow gets.

Fundamentally, it comes down to whether water moves to the stream over the land surface (as overland flow) or underground (as subsurface or groundwater flow). Even though a landscape might be covered with grass or trees, it’s still a lot easier for water to move downhill at the surface than to work its way through pores a few microns in size in soil and rock. Even when macropores are acting as super-highways of subsurface flow, they are still smaller, more tortuous, and less well connected than surface flow paths.

steep rocky slope on left, soil profile on right

Imagine you are water. Which way easier to move downward – flowing overland on the rough slope or squeezing through tiny pores in the soil?
Photos by Lhoon on Flickr and the Noble Research Institute.

If you have a very small headwater stream that is fed by a few hillslopes, and water gets down those hillslopes very quickly, it doesn’t matter whether the rain drops fall on the top of the slopes or the bottoms, all of the water will arrive in the stream at very similar times. And if all of the water arrives in the stream at once, you will get a very high peak flow. But if your water movement is slower, then rain falling on the upper parts of the hillslopes will reach the a long time after the water from the rain that fell on the lower parts of the hillslopes. With those staggered arrivals, you will get a lower peak flow.

(There are analogies that you can make with rush hour on city streets and freeways. Can you think of them?)

Putting it together, overland flow is faster than subsurface flow, and faster flow on/in the hillslopes leads to higher peak flows in the streams. (There’s a little wrinkle here in terms of the way we are talking about speeds, but we’ll get to that in a few paragraphs and this works for now.) Said another way, the shorter the lag time between precipitation and streamflow response, the higher the peak flow.

Now let’s add some nuance and think about the streamflow generation mechanisms one by one.

Infiltration excess overland flow

Infiltration excess (or Hortonian) overland flow is generated when it’s raining too hard for the soil to infiltrate into the subsurface. So the water always stays above ground. A little bit gets caught in the microtopography and ponds, but most of it runs off downslope. Water flowing at the surface will quickly collect from sheet flow into rills, which funnel water efficiently into streams. These rills will form in the steepest paths downhill and the flowing water will smooth out the land surface, decreasing friction and increasing the velocity of flow. [In urban areas, where impervious surfaces promote infiltration excess overland flow (which we call stormwater), gutters and storm sewers make super-smooth, super-speedy pathways for water to flow.] It take just minutes for overland flow to reach the stream. And when it stops raining, overland flow will finish draining to the stream quickly, usually completely stopping within hours. Infiltration excess overland flow is the proverbial hare in the foot race – fast as a flash for a little while, then stops moving.

Groundwater flow

In contrast, groundwater flow is ssssssllllooooooooowwww. Water infiltrates, percolates downward to the water table, and then moves down the hydraulic gradient as a function of hydraulic conductivity and hydraulic gradient (more-or-less slope of the water table) until it reaches the stream. Almost all of this movement happens through pore spaces that are a few microns to tens of microns in size. It can take months to years for groundwater to move from a hillslope into a stream.

That doesn’t mean that if it rains on April 10, that a groundwater-fed stream won’t start to rise in July. Instead, the new water molecules that recharge groundwater as a result of a storm help raise the water table and steepen the hydraulic gradient. That in turn causes water molecules that were already in the aquifer (old water) to flow a tiny bit faster toward the stream. So, if it rains April 10, a groundwater-fed stream may rise on April 11-13 (i.e., groundwater-fed streams respond on timescales of days). But that slow groundwater movement will also keep flow in the stream for weeks to months between storms. Groundwater flow is the proverbial hare – it just keeps plodding along. [Karst is an important exception to this generalization.]

An important aside: velocity vs. celerity

For water that moves through the subsurface, there is an important distinction between velocity (the variation of a water molecule’s position over time) and celerity (the speed at which a signal is propagated). Velocity controls the transit time (or age) of the water in the system and affects things like weathering and contaminant transport. Celerity controls the hydrograph shape – how quickly water rises and falls in the stream. The difference between velocity and celerity exists for overland flow as well, but since both timescales are so short, it’s less important for our purposes.

I like to think about water from the hose when I'm mentally separating velocity and celerity.

I like to think about water from the hose when I’m mentally separating velocity and celerity.

If you are struggling with the distinction between velocity and celerity, here’s the analogy I like to use: It’s a hot summer day, and you decide to get a drink from the hose. You turn the water on at the tap and water starts to come out the other end of the hose within a few seconds, so you bend down to take a drink. Ew!! The water is all hot and gross. But give it a minute or two and the water cools down and tastes much better. The quick response of water coming out of the hose as soon as you turn the tap on is a function of the celerity, but the change in temperature and taste is a function of velocity. Water coming from the tap pushes the old, hot water out the other end of the hose (celerity of the signal), but it takes a while for the fresh cold water from the tap to make it down the length of the hose (velocity of the molecules).

The illustration below may also help. It is from Hrachowitz et al., 2016 Transit times – the link between hydrology and water quality at the catchment scale, WIREs Water.

Follow what happens to the red dot over time vs. the release of water (i.e., cumulative streamflow) (Image from Hrachowitz et al., 2016, used under fair use)

Follow what happens to the red dot over time vs. the release of water (i.e., cumulative streamflow) (Image from Hrachowitz et al., 2016, used under fair use)

So if infiltration-excess overland flow is the fastest and groundwater flow is the slowest, where do subsurface stormflow and saturation overland flow fit in?

Subsurface stormflow

Subsurface stormflow exploits macropores and preferential flowpaths to move through the subsurface more quickly than most groundwater flow. It also doesn’t go as deep in its path from hillslope to stream. But it’s still in the subsurface, so the velocity of the water molecules is still quite slow and transit times are likely in the range of weeks to months. However, preferential flow paths help accelerate the celerity of response. New water moving rapidly downward in preferential flow paths helps generate saturation just above the lower conductivity layer, increasing hydraulic conductivity in the soil and increasing the hydraulic gradient. That causes old water to move out of the soil and into the stream, raising water levels in the stream within a few hours of the rainfall.

Saturation Overland Flow

Now let’s get to saturation overland flow, which is the trickiest to wrap our heads around because it’s really a combination of all of the above. Where saturation overland flow is occurring, water is moving on the land surface and everything I said about infiltration excess overland flow applies. It’s fast and efficient. And for the direct precipitation on saturated areas, that’s all that matters, and timescales of response are in minutes.

BUT! Some of the water that becomes saturation overland flow is “return flow”, i.e., it is subsurface stormflow that has returned to the surface because the water table has reached or exceeded the surface elevation. So then we have to think about the relevant time scales for subsurface stormflow and for transit times, that means return flow overland flow may be weeks to months old. For hydrograph response (celerity), it may be hours, not minutes. Add direct precipitation and return flow together, and you end up with a hydrograph response from saturation overland flow that is a bit slower than you get with pure infiltration-excess overland flow.

Remember also that it takes time to saturate different pieces of the landscape – that’s related to the variable source area concept – so in whatever period exists between the start of rainfall and developing saturation overland flow in a particular area – everything I wrote about subsurface stormflow is what applies.

Real Watersheds

This is true more generally. No watershed has a completely spatially uniform response to a rainstorm. There is always going to be some mix of flow generation mechanisms happening, because of variability in soils, topography, vegetation and human impacts even in small areas. This means that no one scenario above is going to apply for a whole watershed – even during a single storm – instead it will be a blended, splendid mess that you will try to interpret in the context of the watershed characteristics and flow generation mechanisms that are likely to be at work.

As you get to larger watersheds, these flow generation mechanisms still matter and are likely to be even more heterogeneous, but the shape and size of the channel network also starts to matter a lot. At some point (~50-100 km2), the channel network tends to become much more important than the hillslopes. We’ll pick up on that theme in the coming weeks.

Where does this leave us? What’s the TL;DR version?

  • There is a difference between velocity and celerity. Celerity is what matters when we are trying to connect flow generation mechanisms to hydrograph responses. But velocity matters for other things, like water quality.
  • Infiltration excess overland flow generates the fastest hydrograph response (smallest lag time) – and the highest peak flows.
  • Urbanization promotes infiltration excess overland flow, which is why urban streams are so notoriously flood prone.
  • Saturation overland flow also results in fast hydrograph responses and high peak flows, but not quite as extreme as infiltration excess overland flow.
  • Both overland flow mechanisms can give us peak flows that occur * Subsurface stormflow produces a hydrograph response within hours in small watersheds and it’s peak flows can be big, but not as big as those from overland flow.
  • Groundwater is slow but steady and mostly supports baseflow. Left on its own, it produces peak flows that are much, much smaller than any of the other flow generation mechanisms.
  • Real watersheds, even small ones, rarely have a single flow generation mechanism operating at all times. That means that real hydrograph responses are going to have a mixture of the characteristics described here and we can’t usually invert a hydrograph to tell us what flow generation mechanism produced it.

In graphical form:
Does this figure make sense based on what you've read? It's from David Knighton's Fluvial Forms and Processes book (used under fair use) Does this figure make sense based on what you’ve read? It’s from David Knighton’s Fluvial Forms and Processes book (used under fair use).

Categories: by Anne, hydrology