When you think of Antarctica, you might imagine a stark, other-worldly continent of endless, white ice. The only sound being the wind, punctuated by the crack of a glacier calving in the distance.
This image may have been true more than 30 years ago but is certainly not the case anymore. In January, I met online with colleagues who are working on a science project at the UK’s Rothera research station. Rothera is on the West Antarctic peninsula, one of the many front lines of climate change. It had been raining. Again. I carried out my PhD research at Rothera, spending three southern hemisphere summers there from 2004-06, and I don’t remember it ever raining properly while I was there. Certainly not for days on end. Now it’s becoming a regular occurrence.