The head lifeguard at my favorite DC public pool pulled a double shift last weekend with a heat emergency triggering extended hours. At one point during the week, the sky opened with rain while the heat index hovered at 101 degrees. But we have air conditioning to parry the summer's worst offenses.

I'm writing this newsletter in Seattle as I wear a frozen washcloth for a hat. Two fans spin valiantly, but in vain, as the fabric wilts. Heatwaves are worse in recent years and scorching places that aren't prepared: today marked the longest stretch of 90+ temps on record in Seattle, the American city with the fewest air-conditioned homes at just 44 percent.

Still, I'm thankful this isn't 1936 (though I am happy we have a photographic record).

Thirteen states set their all-time temperature marks that year in the midst of a massive drought (tougher these days due to... corn sweat). Heat doesn't stop at state lines, but the effects do concentrate a bit more in urban areas compared to rural croplands. Concrete and glass bake modern cities into heat islands that disproportionately affect non-white neighborhoods.

Regardless of where you live, you can find some of the answers in trees. Go add to your yard or ask your city council member to fund more tree planting – and maintenance!

Then reward yourself with ice cream in an arboretum as the sun sets in "this large oven impersonating night."
 

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This newsletter was written on the traditional lands of the Piscataway, Nacotchtank, and Coast Salish.