Bernd Krauskopf

The Pacific Ocean does not breathe evenly but in bursts. Every few years, its warm waters stir, and then Australia suffocates from drought while Peru is flooded with rain. This phenomenon is called El Niño, and it resembles a traveler wandering along an invisible road map.

The conductor of an orchestra gradually loses control of the tempo. First, the second violins fall slightly behind, then the cellos speed up, and soon every musician is playing in their own rhythm, even though a minute ago they all followed the same melody.

A cartographer charting a route through a mountain range notes not only peaks and valleys but also passes where the trail sharply changes direction.

Every year, as December approaches, the water off the coast of Peru becomes anomalously warm or anomalously cold. This is El Niño and La Niña, two phases of the same climate pendulum that swings in the equatorial Pacific. The pendulum is not a simple one: it remembers what happened to it several months earlier, and this memory determines which way it will swing next.