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Jordan Kaythor
High above the Arctic, the polar vortex — that icy ring of winds that usually keeps the cold bottled up — is warping and shifting in a way that’s making seasoned scientists blink twice at their charts.
In late December, when many of us are thinking about travel plans, last‑minute gifts or a few lazy days indoors, the atmosphere is staging something far more dramatic. A rare early-season disruption is forming tens of kilometers above our heads. And what’s worrying experts is not just that it’s happening, but how hard and how fast it seems to be hitting.
( One senior researcher told me they’d never seen December data bend like this in their career. )
High above the Arctic, the polar vortex — that icy ring of winds that usually keeps the cold bottled up — is warping and shifting in a way that’s making seasoned scientists blink twice at their charts.
In late December, when many of us are thinking about travel plans, last‑minute gifts or a few lazy days indoors, the atmosphere is staging something far more dramatic. A rare early-season disruption is forming tens of kilometers above our heads. And what’s worrying experts is not just that it’s happening, but how hard and how fast it seems to be hitting.
( One senior researcher told me they’d never seen December data bend like this in their career. )