Ghost forests expand as sea levels rise and saltwater kills coastal trees

As seas rise, ghost forests spread across coastlines—and marshes may follow

Saltwater is killing lowland trees, transforming forests into eerie graveyards and altering entire ecosystems

Along the Chesapeake Bay and across coastal regions of the U.S., haunting landscapes of leafless, bark-stripped trees are appearing with growing frequency. These “ghost forests”—areas where once-thriving woodlands are dying due to rising sea levels and saltwater intrusion—are becoming stark symbols of climate change’s slow and irreversible grip on the land.

Saltwater-choked roots and saturated soils are overtaking low-lying coastal forests, causing massive die-offs of cedar, pine, bald cypress, and hardwoods. And as the trees fall silent, the question looms: What will replace them?

Saltwater: a silent killer of coastal forests

The transformation of forest to marsh or mudflat isn’t just happening above ground. It begins underground, as rising sea levels and frequent storm surges bring saltwater farther inland. In many cases, drought compounds the impact by lowering the groundwater table, allowing seawater to infiltrate the soil.

“Trees are stressed as salt accumulates,” explains Keryn Gedan, a coastal ecologist at George Washington University and coauthor of a 2025 Annual Review of Marine Science article.

The result: trees die slowly over decades, leaving behind skeletal trunks that no longer serve their original ecological role.

Forests dying—but not all transitions are losses

The shift isn’t entirely a tragedy. In some cases, these dying forests give way to vibrant coastal marshes, which offer essential ecosystem services—from carbon sequestration to storm buffering and providing habitats for crabs, mussels, and marsh birds like the salt marsh sparrow and marsh wren.

“You would think of these forests and marshes kind of dancing together up and down the coast,” says Marcelo Ardón, an ecosystem ecologist at North Carolina State University.

In southern Georgia, brackish and salt marshes now store more carbon than the forests they are replacing. These wetland environments also act as storm shields, absorbing energy from storm surges and protecting inland forests and communities.

But the outcomes vary—and not always for the better

In North Carolina’s Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula, a region hard-hit by rising seas, drought, and hurricanes, ghost forests have expanded rapidly. Ardón’s research shows that some of these forests—home to high-carbon-storing species like Atlantic white cedar and bald cypress—actually stored more carbon than the wetlands replacing them.

Sometimes, the transition skips the marsh phase entirely. When sea-level rise and saltwater intrusion happen too quickly, the result isn’t a lush salt marsh—but rather mudflats, dead zones, or landscapes dominated by invasive species.

“Instead of being replaced with native salt marsh… what’s actually taking its place is a phragmites marsh,” says forest ecologist Stephanie Stotts of the University of Maryland Eastern Shore.

Phragmites, a non-native reed, spreads aggressively and crowds out native plants. It offers little nutrition or habitat for local wildlife, potentially disrupting food webs and further reducing the ecosystem’s health and resilience.

Satellite data reveals the scale of change

NASA satellite imagery shows ghost forests along the Chesapeake Bay and Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula expanding dramatically. Since 1985, about 11% of forest in North Carolina’s Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge has turned to marsh. Along the Chesapeake Bay, more than 150 square miles of forest have transitioned since the mid-1800s.

These numbers are likely to grow. Gedan emphasizes that the only real solution is addressing sea level rise and global climate change at their source.
 

A slow-moving but permanent transformation

The conversion from forest to marsh plays out over decades, often with little notice until it’s too late. That delay has made the current scope of ghost forests difficult to grasp in real time.

“We’re about 50 years behind,” says Stotts. “The full impact of these forests becoming skeletons remains to be seen.”

Whether the land becomes a productive marsh or an ecological wasteland depends on climate trends, invasive species, and how communities and policymakers respond.

For now, the ghost forests stand as silent warnings—monuments to what’s already been lost, and reminders of what more we might lose if the tide isn’t turned.

Stay tuned to The Horizons Times for ongoing coverage of environmental change, coastal resilience, and the evolving fight against climate-driven land loss.