Mangroves store much more carbon, maybe three or four times, and almost all of it is in the black mud under our roots. That mud doesn't let air in, so nothing rots—it just gets buried. They count it by measuring the mud's depth, but their numbers always feel small to me. I know because when a big storm scours out a creek bank, we see the old, black layers of history—our soil is made of captured air, and losing a hectare is like burning a village's memory.
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