Summer is here, the news begging us to fear over the heat when it’s such an odd thing to fear, especially after rains and winters. Things are shifting and the waters are becoming shallower in the Sierra, the waters everywhere, like the air, getting warm. And I can’t help but love it.
Obviously I love it. Heat, especially the right amount, is some wildly relieving balm to all ailments. It just feels fucking great. A sweet relief from so many things, sitting outside on a hot day on the beach or a patch of grass is as satiating as any meal. Often when I get home after sitting in the sun I lay in my bed, utterly alert and wildly content. It feels like I’m stoned. It feels like magic.
And yet, there it is, probably in the back of your mind as you read this. Part of this is the climate crisis. It is. That odd and imperceptible thing in our day to lives. Imperceptible, maybe, simply for the reason that we don’t work so directly with earth in front of us. Rather, we work with LED screens and silicone chips that thrive on cobalt mined in Africa. At this point, screens inhabit every occupation, whether you work in an office or not. You work on a screen. We socialize on a screen. I write on a screen and keyboard and share this on a screen. There is nothing inherently wrong with this. But the object of our occupations, our work and leisure, is filtered through a screen, and because of this it’s hard to truly see and feel these changes. That’s all I mean.
Yesterday morning I talked with an urchin diver who lives in Sonoma. He’s been diving in the area since the seventies and could speak so intimately about each cove, the histories of its changes and the ways in which he sees its potential future. He’s seen devastating shifts that have fundamentally altered his life. It’s not buzzing in the background of his mind as some idle concept. It is right here.
I’ve been busy reporting on some kelp forest related projects, one of which will come out next week. But I just wanted to share with you an old essay I wrote about climate anxiety and a conversation with the climate and family therapist, Emily Chandler. As the news talks about heatwaves and floods across the United States, I think it’s important to recognize that, while we may not see it directly, the climate crisis does impact us, even in the subtlest of ways, even in this country, often so far removed from the worlds torments.
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Also, I just wanted to share Callum Angus’s Substack. I don’t know them personally but I deeply admire how they grapple with how climate change impacts our psyches. Their work is worth a read. And their book, Cataract is incredible as well!