In less than 10 years, three catastrophic floods ravaged northwestern Wisconsin and changed the way people think about water.

Fourth-generation Middle Tennessee cattle farmer Cole Liggett lined up with scientists and environmental advocates in March to urge Tennessee lawmakers not to gut the state’s historically strong protections for wetlands.

On the last day of duck season in the heart of Arkansas’ best duck country, longtime hunter Todd Taylor said the hunting just wasn’t as good as previous years.

It was late in the season and most of the birds were gone. But there had to be a few stragglers out there, late migrators that hadn’t yet left for warmer waters.

Wetlands come in many shapes and sizes, and they go by many names: bog, slough, fen, marsh, swamp and more.

Anderson Jones first remembers his home flooding in 1973, when water from the nearby Mississippi River blanketed his family’s 10-acre farm and surrounded the shotgun house his father built, leaving it an island.

Amid the rapid erosion of Louisiana's coast, something hopeful is happening where the Atchafalaya River meets the Gulf. A flow of sediment from a decades-old river diversion has accidentally given birth to new wetlands.

In northeast Iowa, a wispy stand of trees looks out of place. It is surrounded by crop fields on the north side of a four-lane highway, an oasis of nature that is uncommon in rural Iowa, where farming every inch of land is paramount.

On a sunny spring day on a farm outside St. Louis, U.S. Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Lee Zeldin celebrated a new era for America’s wetlands.