Neighborhoods across New Mexico and other states will soon be cleaner and quieter as the U.S. Postal Service rolls out its new electric mail-delivery trucks.

The USPS received $3 billion in funding from the Inflation Reduction Act to electrify its fleet - the largest in the country.

Kathleen Garcia, who directs the Sierra Club's Clean Transportation for All campaign, said the Next Generation Delivery Vehicles will not only fight climate change but also reduce noise pollution for the 45 million Americans who live in close proximity to a road or other transport infrastructure.

"A lot of these vehicles just go a short distance every single day, and then they return back to the hub, where they can easily be charged," she said, "and so it just makes a lot of common sense."

New Mexico is one of the 13 states that have mandated adoption of electric vehicles. To that end, the state's "Clean Car Tax Credit" officially launched on Oct. 1. It allows people who bought a clean car as of May 2024 to apply for state tax credits for the purchase. Up to $3,000 in credits are available for individuals or businesses.

Many people have commented on the odd appearance of the new vehicles - which, compared with predecessors, have much larger windshields and bumpers and a hood that some say resembles a duck bill. Garcia said there's a good reason for the modifications.

"The design changes," she said, "were made to ensure the safety of the driver and the safety of folks that are around the vehicles - other drivers, pedestrians, bicyclists - to really make sure that they're moving around town safely."

Within the next few years, the USPS expects to replace its current fleet, introduced 40-years ago, with 60,000 new vehicles - most of them electric models - across all 50 states. The new EVs feature airbags, 360-degree cameras, blind-spot monitoring, collision sensors and anti-lock brakes.

Savannah's leaders are pointing out the ways federal dollars are being used to boost the area's resilience against climate change.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, many residents are just now getting their power back after a week in the dark. Mayor Van Johnson said the storm has been a wakeup call for the urgent need to tackle climate change, and Savannah's resilience plan is designed to do just that.

"In 2020, the city council unanimously adopted a 100% Savannah Initiative," he said, "which means transitioning partially to clean energy in the 2030s and totally by 2050."

Johnson said 75% of the city's buildings are at risk of flooding, and 26% face wildfire threats. Despite these challenges, he noted that efforts to build climate resilience have boosted the local economy, with jobs popping up in solar energy, construction and renewable technology.

Savannah is part of a statewide initiative that recently received $156 million from the Solar for All program, part of the Inflation Reduction Act. This funding, spread across Georgia, aims to expand solar energy over the next five years.

Nicole Lee, CEO of Be Smart Home Solutions, said its efforts have already helped local families lower energy costs.

"The Thomases were our very first clients to get solar with the Georgia Bright Program," she said. "They have seen savings of more than 50% on their power bills. Just this summer, they've seen a bill of $18 from solar plus storage."

She said the solar system proved invaluable during Hurricane Helene, allowing them to power critical medical devices and even serve as a resiliency hub for their neighbors.

Chatham County Commissioner Aaron Whitley emphasized the importance of preparedness in the face of future storms, pointing to new projects aimed at enhancing community resilience.

"Chatham County is working on community resiliency hubs that will provide power during the outages like the ones we experienced last week," he said.

Officials have said these efforts are also crucial to protect vulnerable communities from the health impacts of climate change. Other projects in the works include what's known as beach "re-nourishment," a drainage basin study, and forging more partnerships with other organizations to bolster the region's preparedness.


get more stories like this via email

A bill pending in Congress would use federal funds to help farmers in Missouri and elsewhere transition from concentrated animal feeding operations, or CAFOs, to more climate-friendly production. The idea, according to the bill's backers, is to assist producers who want to move from intensive animal agriculture to pasture-based animal agriculture or specialty crop production.

Tim Gibbons, communications director with the Missouri Rural Crisis Center, said the program could allow family farms to better compete with corporate-owned operations.

"Using those dollars to support the vast majority of livestock producers in Missouri would be beneficial, not only to their family farms, but to their local economies, to the land that they're stewards of, and also allowing them to stay in business," he said.

Missouri conservation groups say CAFOs dominate the state's agricultural industry, mass-producing meat at a minimal cost to outcompete smaller independent farms. Agri-business associations say concentrated operations are needed to provide an affordable food supply for a global population.

Conservationists claim CAFOs produce water and air pollution, use hormones and antibiotics in meat production, and often neglect and abuse farm animals. Gibbons says the Industrial Agriculture Conversion Act would help keep independent operations from being forced out of business.

"Ninety-percent of Missouri hog producers were put out of business in one generation, and that's through industrialization, vertical integration and the corporate takeover. We're working to ensure that independent operations can be viable and farmers can pass the farms down to the next generation," he added.

Gibbons said Missouri Rural Crisis Center was formed in 1985 out of the farm crisis of the 1980's and added that the group advocates for policies that support independent family farm operations.


get more stories like this via email

By Erik Hoffner for Mongabay.
Broadcast version by Kathryn Carley for Maine News Service reporting for the Solutions Journalism Network-Public News Service Collaboration

January brought a pair of rough storms to the northeastern U.S. They hit when the tides were high and pushed higher than normal by rising sea levels, setting numerous high-water records and prompting Maine Governor Janet Mills to request a federal disaster declaration. These events, just three days apart, built on damage suffered during another storm during the December 2023 holidays and another during the previous December.

"Extensive" is the word that Peter Slovinsky, a marine geologist for the Maine Geological Survey, chose to describe the most recent damage during an interview with Mongabay. He pointed to an estimate that 60% of Maine's working waterfronts were severely damaged. "We saw numerous seawall failures and erosion of anywhere between 15 to even up to 30 feet [4.5-9 meters] of coastal sand dunes, and massive bluff failures also," Slovinsky said.

The common response to busted docks, condemned houses, shrinking shorelines, disappearing dunes and faltering bluffs has been to bolster the shore with 'hard' infrastructure like concrete jetties and breakwaters of imported boulders. But those interventions are expensive, carbon-intensive, and ultimately ineffective due to continual sea level rise.

Increasingly, agencies like Slovinsky's have been experimenting with a more natural and possibly more effective approach called living shorelines. The U.S. National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) defines these as "projects that connect the land and water to stabilize shorelines, reduce erosion, and provide valuable habitat that enhances coastal resilience."

Such projects often take the shape of phalanxes of buried Christmas trees that shore up dunes, mesh bags of shells placed to protect mudflats from erosion, and salt-loving grasses and shrubs planted to stabilize nearshore areas.

Development of living shorelines is widely credited to the late Edgar William Garbisch Jr., a chemistry professor turned wetland restorationist who piloted the approach's early methods and philosophy during the early 1970s in Chesapeake Bay. The aim is to protect coastal ecosystems like marshes and beaches with natural assets that create habitat while anchoring the shore. This method has gained increasing traction along much of the U.S. East Coast, from Georgia on north, as communities have begun to confront the impacts of human-caused climate change, including worsening storms and sea level rise, which is set to increase a further 0.6-1.2 m (2-4 feet) by 2100.

While Maine's official experiments with such interventions at places like Popham and Pemaquid beaches have seen varying levels of success among their dunes and marshes, one Belfast area entrepreneur is innovating new ways of leveraging the living shorelines concept to protect another ubiquitous coastal feature: sandy bluffs.

On a recent morning, contractor Paul Bernacki showed a Mongabay reporter around his latest project site on the Blue Hill Peninsula in Midcoast Maine, where a homeowner had hired him to preserve an eroding bluff along 2,000 ft (610 m) of shoreline. His vision for shoring it up differed greatly from others the property's owner initially approached: "The engineers and their contractors wanted to kill all the trees on the shore, move the bank back 10 feet [3 m] at the top, and then pile 200 truckloads of rocks all the way around," he said.

"Their solution to stabilization is to kill nature. Is that technically feasible for the whole coast of Maine?" Bernacki asked.

He said he doesn't think so, and his team has been pairing a fresh take on the living shorelines best management practices with power tools to shore up this crumbling cliff and its line of oak trees and house in danger of tipping into the salt pond below.

The home is perched on one of Maine's many so-called "erodible bluffs." Despite the rocky shore postcard pictures, 40% of the state's coast is classified as this mix of sand, rock and vegetation that's vulnerable to wave action and scouring by wind-driven blocks of ice. Bernacki's team shores up land like this not with imported rocks, but with natural and often local materials.

Among these are logs (sometimes including drift logs) and salt-tolerant plants often germinated from regionally wildcrafted seed stocks, plus imported materials like coconut fiber-based coir landscape fabric shaped into long tubes and filled with a matrix of soil and organics. These tubes, affectionately called "Tootsie Rolls," are positioned behind rows of logs pinned down with rebar to form tiers and planted with salt-loving grasses like northern sea oats (Chasmanthium latifolium) or broomsedge (Andropogon virginicus).

Seaside goldenrod (Solidago sempervirens), swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) and white yarrow (Achillea millefolium) are also planted, and on the bluff above these, perennial shrubs like winter berry (Ilex verticillata), Virginia rose (Rosa virginiana) and beach plum (Prunus maritima). Finally, rocks are placed among the logs to break up waves and scouring ice, until the plants' roots get established.

This increasingly popular approach - which looks attractive while creating habitat for birds, bugs and nearshore creatures - often costs less than the imported rock or manufactured cement of seawalls and breakwaters, while being as effective or better. NOAA estimates that living shorelines can cost less than hard shorelines, both in terms of installation and maintenance, with costs ranging from less than $1,000 up to $5,000 per linear foot ($3,300-$16,400/m) of shoreline. Installing hard options, by contrast, typically ranges from $2,000 and up per linear foot ($6,600/m), according to The Maine Monitor. Maintenance of living shorelines costs about $100 per foot ($330/meter) annually, according to NOAA, while repairing hard shorelines costs from $100 to $250 per linear foot ($330-$820/m).

While some say it's a winner on cost, that's also likely in terms of carbon if one considers a life-cycle analysis of living shorelines, which is where Bernacki stresses the big difference lies. "The carbon footprint of our work is minimal for the dollar," he says.

Following the recent storm trio, he reported that his team's current project withstood the elements well, with no damage to the newly established structures or the bluff, which was also helped by the site being more protected than if it were right on the bay. Still, some of the less salt-tolerant plants higher up on the bluff were inundated by the tide, and may need replacing if they don't green up in the spring.

Perhaps because Maine has been slower than other states to enact broad regulations for the various situations that living shorelines could apply to, like erodible bluffs, such private- and contractor-led efforts are getting greater attention from landowners, said coastal geologist Slovinsky. "I've had more people than ever in the last couple of years call and say, 'Hey, my bluff is eroding, but I don't want to build a seawall, what do I do?' So, I point them to our coastal property owner guide that I wrote a couple years ago," he said.

In nearby New Hampshire, which has worked living shorelines into state regulations already, there's a similar level of interest and several projects underway at sites like Cutts Cove in Portsmouth, which also weathered the recent storms well. And, like Bernacki's team, they've made an effort to incorporate naturally available and sometimes free resources found onsite in their construction, like local plants, tree stumps and drift logs.

"The thinking is that over time, as the tree stumps and drift logs decompose, the near vertical riprap sill will slowly shift into a more gradual and natural slope," said Grant McKown, a coastal habitat research associate for the Jackson Estuarine Laboratory at the University of New Hampshire, via email. "Additionally, the use of drift logs and trees in the sill construction enhances the physical heterogeneity of the sill, providing additional refuge for nekton (mobile aquatic animals) during high tide and additional surface area for macroalgae (like Fucus and Ascophyllum) to colonize," he wrote.

Is it enough to successfully hold back the rising tides, though?

Back in Maine, results vary. One Freeport-area homeowner reported in January that their $40,000 living shoreline had been washed away. But while Bernacki's current project fared fine, he was philosophical on the question: "Success to me is restoring this habitat - instead of destroying more habitat to protect property," he said. "That, you really can't justify."

So, everything is on the table after the recent spate of storms, including the old standby, Slovinsky said: "One of the things I'm pessimistic about is the response that we're seeing thus far from these storms: more rock," in the form of rapidly rebuilt seawalls and breakwaters.

It's probably going to take advocacy and many more contractors to push his state to roll out a regulatory regime for naturally protecting its iconic shore, both for official and private projects. But momentum is building among Maine's landowners, at least, who are increasingly willing to spend more for waterfront property despite sea level rise: "I'm getting a new call once a week," Bernacki said.

So, like the wetland plants sown by his crew, the number of landowners interested to employ natural solutions, rather than piling up yet more rocks against an ever-rising tide, is also growing.


Erik Hoffner wrote this article for Mongabay.


get more stories like this via email