| | | (Illustration by Emily Sabens/The Washington Post; iStock) | | Welcome. This week, blue whales feeding and Britain stops burning coal. But first, how to prevent natural disasters from taking a lasting toll on your mental health. |  | | Ahren and Jaime Surgent were hoping for the best after almost losing everything. In 2022, one of the most damaging hurricanes in U.S. history swept ashore near their home in Southwest Florida. Hurricane Ian's 150 mph winds blew out the windows, mold soon festered in the sweltering humidity and the home had to be gutted. The damage was only beginning, says Ahren, 45, a firefighter. Insurers balked at paying for the damage, he says, so the family spent the next two years living in a trailer. They accepted charitable donations to cover much of the rebuilding costs as they tried to reassemble their lives. Like millions of others rebuilding after extreme weather, the experience left them emotionally exhausted and financially drained, and worried about what another hurricane season might bring. "If this ever happens again … we would absolutely consider walking away," says Jaime Surgent, 38. "I cannot mentally do it again." We often think about physical impacts in the aftermath of a natural disaster. We rarely tally the mental toll. The most persistent destruction from a natural disaster, researchers say, is often the interior wreckage: depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress and even cognitive deficits passed down in utero to children. Those can last years, or even decades, after the event. But this is not inevitable. While building stronger homes or speeding disaster relief money can help, it's often the strong social connections with other people that offer the best refuge from a storm, says Ellyn Maese, a developmental psychologist who studies the mental health effects of environmental crises. Here's why your friends, family and neighbors may be the key to defending your home and your mental health in a volatile century. Have you weathered a natural disaster? Share your experiences at climatecoach@washpost.com. I read all your emails. |  | Field Sample It's rare to see whales lunge-feeding on the surface, and it's even rarer to see blue whales doing it. Earlier this summer, Domenic Biagini, a videographer and owner of Gone Whale Watching in San Diego, filmed blue whales surface-feeding on krill about 20 miles off the coast of Southern California. The whales open their mouths, gulping as much as 140 percent of their own weight in seawater. Then they filter out zooplankton using baleen, a tissue that acts like a strainer to trap small prey in their mouth. Biagini, who says he has averaged nearly 300 days on the water over the past eight years with his whale-watching company, posted drone footage of the event. "The more we can share the beauty of these animals, the better chance we have at preserving them for the future," he writes. | | (Gone Whale Watching Inc.) | Learning Curve On Sept. 3, Phoenix endured a broiling milestone: 100 degrees for the 100th day in a row, smashing the previous streak of 76 days set in 1993. Maricopa County, which includes Phoenix, was once home to around 200,000 people in the early 1900s. Today, it houses 4.5 million. All this new asphalt and buildings, which absorb heat, have created one of the nation's largest urban heat islands: the region's cities are at least 8 degrees warmer than their surroundings, according to Climate Central, a science communication nonprofit. That's proving deadly: As many as 645 people may have died of heat-related causes in Maricopa County last year, a 50 percent jump over 2022. So far, the streak shows no sign of ending. Read more here. |  |  | Snapshot Chico Harlan, The Post's global climate correspondent, journeyed to Mozambique to see what had become of a program run by D.C.-based C-Quest Capital that aimed to reduce the amount of wood burned, protect users' lungs and generate carbon credits. Chico passed the homes of hundreds of people who had received TLC Rocket cookstoves from the company while walking as many as six miles daily over three days. Few were still using the devices. The Post's investigation examines the fate of the roughly 8,000 stoves, which led to accusations of wrongdoing and canceled carbon credits, as well as the future of similar programs. Read more here. | | Dolca Celestino cooks an evening meal of spaghetti for her family at her home in Tete, Mozambique. she was one of the few women found to be using her TLC Rocket stove regularly. (Samantha Reinders for The Washington Post) |  | The Second Degree Last week, Allyson Chiu and John Farrell wrote a guest column about what to do with your old jacket rather than throwing it out. Plenty of companies such as Arc'teryx, Patagonia, REI and others will now take back clothing and repair it. Some of you have found creative solutions at home. Kathy wrote in to share the story about her daughter's jacket that has survived as multiple generations of clothing "She started with a jacket," Kathy writes. "When it became tattered, she made it into a vest. Then she fashioned it into a shirt. Eventually what was left became a patch." Ruth, of Phoenix, asked where she could recycle fabrics. While thrift stores will recycle rejected or damaged fabrics, it's better to send damaged goods straight to recyclers. Search for fabric recycling near you or several national firms will send you bags to divert old clothes from the landfill. |  |  | | Frank sent in this snapshot of his front yard in Redding, Calif., where a flock of wild turkeys were foraging for food, including about 20 chicks. Although recent declines have puzzled scientists, turkeys staged a remarkable comeback in the United States when they rebounded to a peak of 7 million birds in 2004. Send me your photos and stories at climatecoach@washpost.com | | Was this email forwarded to you? Sign up here to get The Climate Coach in your inbox every Tuesday. See you next Tuesday, Michael Coren, Climate Coach | | |
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