"Here's the dividing line," says Espig, a farmer who still talks with the accent and big-city brashness of his native Berlin. He takes just a few more steps through the knee-high grass, and suddenly the ground underfoot feels softer, like a giant sponge.

He's stepped from ordinary "mineral soil" composed of sand and clay into a realm of peatland, made from old vegetation—centuries worth of moss or reeds that grew here when this was a marsh.

Peatlands like this are surprisingly common and represent a wild card for the world's climate. They contain vast amounts of carbon, more than all the world's forests. They also are fragile. When drained, like Jörg Espig's field, they release carbon dioxide, accelerating climate change. Scientists are now calling for a global campaign to protect and restore these peatlands.

"Peatlands suffer from a Cinderella syndrome; they are often overlooked," says Franziska Tanneberger, who leads the Greifswald Mire Center at the University of Greifswald in Germany. Peatlands are found around the world, especially alongside streams and in coastal areas. They're common across northern Europe, the east coast of the U.S., Canada, Siberia, and many Pacific islands. They cover about 3% of the planet's land surface.

But these carbon vaults are vulnerable, as Espig's field demonstrates. The peatland section of this field is sunken. In some places, it's 3 feet lower than the regular mineral soil. The soil has vanished into the air.

Jörg Espig, a farmer in Usedom, Germany, grows hay and grazes cows on several hundred acres of drained peatlands.

Dan Charles for NPR

The reason, in a word, is drainage. Many decades ago, this land was claimed for agriculture using techniques pioneered by Dutch experts. A system of drainage ditches, pumps, and dikes removed water from the land so farmers could graze cattle or drive tractors across it to harvest hay. "If that dike weren't there," Espig says, gesturing toward the earthen wall at the far end of the field, "this area in front of us would be covered with water."

But peatlands need water to survive. "In a natural peatland, the water is like a protective layer. Once you remove the water, it's no longer protected," Tanneberger says. Oxygen in the air reacts with the carbon-rich soil, breaking it down in a kind of slow-motion combustion, releasing carbon dioxide.

It's almost like burning coal, but it doesn't get the same attention, Tanneberger says. "If that would be, like, black smoke coming out of the soil, you would immediately see it, and you would say, 'Oh, you have to do something," she says. "But you do not see the CO2 that's emitted right now."

Those planet-warming emissions add up. An average acre of drained peatland releases about 12 tons of carbon dioxide every year, roughly the equivalent of driving 25,000 miles in a typical gas-powered car. When such soil is tilled and used to grow crops, as is often done, for instance, in a drained section of the Florida Everglades, the emissions—and the loss of soil—are even higher. In parts of the Everglades Agricultural Area, roughly six feet worth of carbon-rich soil has vaporized over the past century.

In the northeast German state of Mecklenburg-West Pomerania, which includes much of the Baltic coast, "a stunning fact for many people here, including farmers, is that the drained peatlands make up 40% of the total greenhouse gas emissions of our region," Tanneberger says. Peatlands account for roughly 7% of the total greenhouse emissions of Germany.

These emissions can be stopped. One of Tanneberger's favorite examples is a windswept section of the Baltic coast near the city of Greifswald. Thirty years ago, environmental advocates persuaded local authorities here to move the dikes back from the coast and turn off the pumps that were required to keep the land dry. Water has now returned to part of this peatland. The carbon dioxide releases have stopped. New wetland vegetation might actually start capturing carbon from the air and start storing it again in new layers of peat.

"This site gives me hope that it is possible that people jointly agree on making the peatlands wet again," Tanneberger says. "This is something that I'm really convinced, deep in my heart, that we need."

Franziska Tanneberger, director of the Greifswald Mire Center, at a restored area of peatland called Karrendorf meadows, near the city of Greifswald.

Dan Charles for NPR

At the ongoing international climate summit in Baku, Azerbaijan, peatland experts will push for the "rewetting" of peatlands around the world that have been drained and the preservation of those that remain in a natural state. People who can't attend in person can visit a "Virtual Peatlands Pavilion" online. Tanneberger won't be there herself; she's stopped traveling by air, for the most part, in an effort to reduce fossil fuel use.

Almost all of Germany's peatlands have been drained. Returning water to that land is essential, Tanneberger says, to achieve the country's climate goals.

Yet it's politically difficult to reverse practices that have been in place for many decades. Much of that drained peatland is now owned by farmers who are using it as pasture or hay fields. Most of them want to keep that land dry.

"It's a matter of property," Espig says. "The farmer didn't buy this land to protect the climate. He bought it to earn his daily bread. And his daily bread is milking cows. Or grazing cows. Or making hay."

Tanneberger thinks there's a way to preserve both wetlands and agriculture. She has been carrying out research on ways that farmers could still use that land when it's wet. They could, for instance, use tractors that are built to navigate on wet soil, harvesting hay even from soggy fields. Even better, she says, they could grow traditional wetland crops, like reeds that are used to make thatched roofs.

A ditch allows water to drain from a peatland near Greifswald, Germany.

Dan Charles for NPR

Espig, who also chairs the farmers' association in this region, is skeptical. Farming in wet conditions, he says, is complicated, often impractical, and generally doesn't make economic sense.

But he does see room for compromise. Perhaps 10% of the area's drained peatlands, he says, are not very profitable to farm; they could be returned to nature without causing much disruption. Local authorities could organize land swaps, rewetting peatlands and compensating farmers with publicly owned land elsewhere. And many farmers would be open to a buyout because farming has generally been in decline in this area. "You have to offer the farmer an alternative, and then he'd be ready to take it," Espig says.

Germany has been a leader worldwide when it comes to making such deals. Federal and local governments have helped pay to rewet about 5,000 acres of peatlands per year. But that's only a tiny slice of what's needed, Tanneberger says.

Germany has set a goal of cutting its net greenhouse gas emissions to zero before 2050. Meeting that goal, Tanneberger says, would require rewetting more than 100,000 acres of peatland each year.

Dan Charles is a freelance writer in Washington, DC. He was a visiting journalist at the German Centre for Integrative Biodiversity Research in Leipzig during the summer of 2024.

The two biggest climate polluters in the world are China and the United States.

The U.S. is preparing for a second presidential term for Donald Trump, who has called climate change a hoax and federal investments in climate solutions a "green new scam".

In China, it's a different story. China has made it clear it plans to be at the forefront of manufacturing climate solutions–and selling them around the globe.

China is the world's largest producer of renewable energy, now constructing almost two thirds of all large-scale wind and solar power, according to nonprofit Global Energy Monitor.

And China is spreading climate solution technologies across the developing world. Walk into an electric vehicle showroom in Colombia, the Dominican Republic, or Kenya these days, and the car on offer is likely made in China.

"They've set up a situation where it's good for them to sell clean energy technologies to the world," says Alex Wang, a professor of law at UCLA focused on Chinese climate policy. "It's very good economically, and it's good reputationally, and it's good environmentally."

But while China is now the largest producer and distributor of climate solutions technologies — a key moneymaker for its troubled economy — the country still gets more than half its power from coal. "Which happens to also be the dirtiest fossil fuel," says Li Shuo, director of the China climate hub at the Asia Society, a nonprofit.

As global leaders gather at the annual United Nations climate summit in Azerbaijan, countries see the U.S. under a lame-duck Biden administration with less clout. Meanwhile, China is signaling an increased role in climate diplomacy and continued leadership in international climate investments, despite its complicated relationship with coal.

China's steady, long-term investments in climate solutions will make it harder for the U.S. to compete in these industries, Li says. "The U.S. does not want to get into a table tennis game with China, because that game the U.S. cannot win," he says.

A Chery Exceed LX car is displayed at the Beijing auto show. Chinese electric vehicle companies like Chery are selling their cars across Latin America.

WANG ZHAO/AFP via Getty Images/AFP

Good for the planet, and the Chinese economy

For the Chinese government and its private sector, investing in climate technologies makes business sense. China's economy is in a slowdown, but the country's climate and energy sector is a bright spot driving economic growth.

The Chinese government made investments 15 to 20 years ago in climate technologies that are paying off now, Wang says. "They dominate solar, wind, batteries, electric vehicles," he says.

In September alone, China installed about 20 gigawatts of solar energy, according to the Chinese government. That's enough electric power for about 3.6 million U.S. homes. In all of 2023 the U.S. added roughly the same amount of solar power - 19 gigawatts, according to the U.S. government.

Now China is making profits selling climate technologies like electric vehicles in Southeast Asian, African, and Latin American markets.

There's a business strategy and a diplomatic strategy here, Li says. In addition to being moneymakers, climate investments and technology sales help China build diplomatic ties.

In a speech at the U.N. climate summit in Azerbaijan, Chinese Vice Premier Ding Xuexiang said China mobilized more than $24 billion for developing countries since 2016 to help their response to climate change.

Li says China is signaling it will take more of a leadership role to ensure developing countries — which did the least to cause global warming — get much-needed climate funds.

Meanwhile, under Trump, the U.S is expected to retreat from climate diplomacy. Under his first term, Trump pulled the U.S. out of the global climate treaty, the Paris agreement. President Biden signed an order his first day in office returning the U.S. to the agreement. Climate experts expect Trump to remove the U.S. again.

The renewable energy plus coal equation

As part of the Paris climate treaty, countries have to announce targets to make deeper cuts to their own climate pollution by 2035. The hope is that all the pollution cuts combined will limit the world's warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius compared to average global temperatures from the late 1800s. Beyond that limit, extreme weather like heat waves and storms is expected to get far worse, scientists say.

For the world's biggest polluter, the size of China's pollution cuts will have global consequences, Li says. "It's really, I think, the single most important issue to decide whether the world has a chance to stay at 1.5 degrees," he says.

There are some good indicators China will make big cuts. In 2020 the country promised to build 1,200 gigawatts of renewable energy by 2030, roughly the same electricity generating capacity of the whole United States. China recently announced it reached the goal, six years ahead of schedule.

On the other hand, China has built many coal plants domestically in recent years, says Ye Huang, China researcher at Global Energy Monitor. Last year China was responsible for 95% of coal power construction that broke ground.

Still, she says, China isn't using all that planet-heating coal power to its full potential. Instead the country increasingly uses coal plants as backup when solar or wind plants aren't working, or when there is less hydropower available because of droughts, says Jeremy Wallace, professor of China studies at Johns Hopkins University.

"You might think that if you built a big power plant, you would run it all the time," Wallace says. "In fact, the average Chinese coal plant is run at about 50 percent capacity. That is, half the time it's operating and half the time it is not operating."

But there are regional forces pushing to maintain coal as a big part of China's energy mix, and keep millions of coal jobs. To meet climate goals, China will have to reckon with those forces, Li says.

"In this regard China is not that different from the United States. China has its own West Virginia," Li says. "You have local interests, you have important provinces that are heavily reliant on coal."

Many China energy experts expect China's climate pollution levels to peak maybe this year or next.

STR/AFP via Getty Images/AFP

A global green race

Despite headwinds from coal interests, many climate experts are optimistic China will adopt an ambitious target for reducing climate pollution.

China's climate pollution is projected to rise only 0.2% this year, leading many to speculate its pollution levels will peak soon, maybe even next year. Wallace and Li expect China to announce a 2035 target that reduces climate pollution 25%-30% from the country's peak.

Whether the U.S. will announce its target in the remaining weeks of the Biden administration is unclear.

Li says an ambitious Chinese target would be a win for the planet, China's economy, and climate solution technology. "It will actually facilitate further growth and deployment of renewable energy and other clean technologies," Li says, "put China even further ahead of the global green economic race."

Case numbers had been rising for years before that, though. Now, a new study awaiting peer review suggests that climate change has likely played a significant role in the expansion of the disease from 1995 to 2014, according to an analysis presented in November at the American Society of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene conference in New Orleans. Over that time period, climate change increased the caseload by roughly 20% across the 21 countries in the study — all places where dengue fever was already established, like Indonesia, India and Brazil.

The numbers could skyrocket with further climate change, even beyond the record-breaking case numbers from the past few years, says Erin Mordecai, an infectious disease expert at Stanford University and one of the authors of the new analysis.

"Many of the places in the study region are going to more than double their projected dengue incidence" if human-caused climate change continues to aggressively heat up the planet, she says. But the growth could be contained — not stopped, but at least minimized — if climate action keeps global temperatures in check, she stresses.

Dengue fever is the most common tropical disease in the world. In about a quarter of cases, it can drive painful fever and the sensation of aching joints and bones leads to its common name "breakbone fever." In a small percentage of cases — and most often when someone contracts the disease for a second time — it can be fatal.

Millions of cases of dengue fever play out every year worldwide. But there is currently no commonly available vaccine for adults, and little beyond palliative care to manage the disease once contracted.

Climate fingerprints on dengue fever

Dengue fever is spread between people by two species of mosquitoes, Aedes albopictus and Aedes aegypti.

"Mosquitoes are exothermic," or cold-blooded, Mordecai explains. "So when the temperature gets warmer, everything that their body does speeds up."

Mosquitoes grow faster. They more effectively replicate the virus in their guts. They even bite more aggressively as temperatures warm toward those ideal levels.

Previous research in laboratories showed that those species of mosquitoes thrived within a predictable temperature range. For Aedes albopictus, the ideal Goldilocks temperature was roughly 79 degrees Fahrenheit. For Aedes aegypti, it was slightly higher, a balmy 84 degrees.

There is a built-in limit, says Mordecai: Too far past those Goldilocks temperatures and mosquitoes suffer and start to die. And a dead mosquito can't spread disease.

The researchers could track changes in temperature over time in tandem with changes in reported disease cases. And using climate models, they could tease out how much of the temperature rise in each location could be blamed on human-caused climate change — a technique called attribution. Then, using sophisticated statistical techniques borrowed from economics, they could link the human-driven temperature increases with increased caseloads.

Similar strategies are now commonly used to diagnose human-caused climate change's fingerprint on extreme weather like heat waves or hurricanes. But the new analysis is one of the first to explicitly link climate change to changes in infectious disease cases.

"Understanding how much of the increase in disease can be attributed to climate can give us more confidence in our predictions for how infections are going to respond to future climate changes," says Marta Shocket, a disease ecologist at Lancaster University in the U.K. "And this can help us do better long-term planning for how we allocate different public health resources."

Overall, the researchers found that temperature conditions generally favor the expansion of the disease, especially in areas like highland Mexico, Bolivia and Brazil. Hotter areas, like Thailand and Cambodia, have seen growth as well, but smaller marginal increases because temperatures were already near the mosquitoes' upper limits.

They could also look into the future to see where risks might emerge — and how many cases could be in store in an even hotter future. Many parts of South America, particularly those that are at the cooler end of the mosquitoes' preferred temperature range now, could see their caseloads double by the middle of the century if warming continues on its current trajectory. Only Cambodia was projected to see a drop in cases.

"A lot of regions that are more temperate will become more suitable — and what's scary is that it happens to overlap a lot with really densely populated cities," says Jamie Caldwell, an infectious disease researcher at Princeton University who was not involved in the study.

A health worker dispenses insecticide with fogging machines to kill mosquitoes spreading dengue fever ahead of the Day of the Dead celebrations in Merida, Mexico. 2024 broke records for the number of dengue fever cases reported worldwide. Hugo Borges/AFP via Getty Images

A nurse takes care of a patient at a hospital near Lima, Peru. The country experienced an outbreak of dengue fever in 2024 — a pattern that was replicated in many countries around the world. A new study suggests climate change may be contributing to the spread of the mosquito-borne disease. Juan Carlos Cisneros/AFP via Getty Images

The study did not include countries where dengue fever is still rare, a category which includes the U.S. But the number of cases within U.S. borders has also risen sharply in recent years, in hot, humid regions like Florida and southern Texas. But in 2023, several cases of locally acquired dengue fever were reported for the first time in Southern California. More were identified this year in Los Angeles County.

When dengue caseloads are high in the rest of the world, it increases the chances the disease can make its way into new areas, like the U.S., says Katharine Walter, an epidemiologist at the University of Utah.

"The world is more connected than ever before, and country borders are artificial," she says. "Unchecked viral transmission doesn't stay in one place."

Public health efforts still matter — a lot

A hotter planet contributes to the expansion of the disease — but it is far from the only reason, says Benny Rice, a disease ecologist at Princeton University. Dengue fever, like other diseases spread by "vectors" like mosquitoes or ticks, is controlled by a vast array of factors.

Urbanization — particularly in unplanned developments like those springing up on the outskirts of cities worldwide — often creates mosquito havens, leading to a higher likelihood of disease outbreaks. Global travel also allows the disease to spread quickly and easily between regions. Other weather factors, like the frequency and intensity of rainfall or extreme weather, also influence the dynamics of dengue outbreaks.

In some ways, all that complexity represents opportunity, says Rice. He points out that even if climate change influences 20% of dengue cases — or even more — that leaves 80% of cases that could be reined in. "The public health interventions that have existed for years are more important than ever," he says — from efforts like aggressive efforts to curb mosquito populations to developing strong local networks of medical care.

Nonetheless, the study shows that "the climate really gives context for where and when outbreaks could occur," Caldwell says.

The analysis suggests dengue cases will continue to skyrocket as Earth's climate continues to warm. By the middle of the century, the number of cases could rise by 60% as more parts of the world enter the mosquito-friendly temperature zone.

But Mordecai says that points to a clear solution: alongside the other public health measures, any success at slowing Earth's warming by reducing planet-warming emissions will lessen the risks.

Some Indigenous advocates at this year's international climate negotiations in Baku, Azerbaijan say the deals made fall short of what's needed to stave off the worst impacts of a warming planet, from sea level rise to catastrophic storms. COP29 ended with wealthy countries agreeing to help poorer nations with at least $300 billion annually to address global warming in a last-minute deal.

Advocates are now looking to next year's climate talks in Brazil, which some are calling the "Indigenous peoples" COP, to push for further inclusion in climate negotiations and support the global Indigenous movement.

This year, a group within COP known as the Local Communities and Indigenous Peoples Platform came to Baku with a set of priorities, which included advocating for a formal seat at the negotiating table for climate initiatives. They also wanted more Indigenous knowledge incorporated into climate science and policies. Leaders also called for protecting the human rights of Indigenous people and to safeguard tribal nations feeling the most adverse effects of climate change.

"Broadly speaking, the COP outcomes failed on all four of those [priorities]," explains Graeme Reed, who is Anishinaabe from the Great Lakes region. He was the North American representative to what's called the Facilitative Working Group, which carries out the platform's climate priorities by advising state party representatives that are willing to listen. These representatives can then bring ideas up in formal negotiations.

Reed called the final agreement out of COP29 "drastically insufficient."

Janene Yazzie, who is Diné (Navajo), also expressed disappointment. She joined Reed in the Facilitative Working Group as a North American representative. She says, despite the outcome, it's important for Indigenous people to build solidarity during the talks.

"It's very important for us to be here [in Baku] to advocate for our people to hold the line for effective and meaningful climate action and to continue to fight for the ability to access available climate finance that exists on the global scale," Yazzie says.

The climate finance deal nearly didn't happen after some developing nations walked out of negotiations over the weekend. Still, some have called the $300 billion a step in the right direction. Among them, President Biden, who said in a statement that the agreement was "ambitious" and that the money will help "mobilize the level of finance – from all sources – that developing countries need to accelerate the transition to clean, sustainable economies, while opening up new markets for American-made electric vehicles, batteries and other products."

Indigenous participation

Around 170 Indigenous people from around the world traveled to Baku. Groups representing Indigenous people across national borders do not have an official role when it comes to negotiating climate policy at COP. But they can advise countries willing to hear them out.

Eriel Tchekwie Deranger is a member of the Athabasca Chipewyan First Nation in Alberta, Canada and the executive director of the nonprofit Indigenous Climate Action.

"[We have] to really hope that sort of sympathetic states will listen to our desires and needs," Deranger says. "It's been really difficult, to be honest."

Protesters demonstrate for Indigenous land rights and climate justice on day six at COP29 this November in Baku, Azerbaijan.

Sean Gallup/Getty Images

Indigenous organizations have become a growing part of COPs. But Deranger says participation was down this year. She points to Azerbaijan being so far away for many groups, expensive flights and concerns about the country's human rights record.

A recent analysis revealed that at least 1,773 fossil fuel lobbyists registered to attend COP29. Deranger said that far outnumbered Indigenous representation in Baku.

A just transition

Many Indigenous leaders at COP29 acknowledged the need for the renewable energy transition. However, many worry about mining for critical minerals that's needed for technologies that reduce climate pollution, like batteries, solar panels and electric vehicles. Mines are often on or near tribal lands. In the U.S., an analysis found more than 75% of lithium, copper and nickel reserves in the U.S. are located within 35 miles of Indigenous communities. Another study found that globally, 54% of all the minerals needed for the green energy transition are located on or near Indigenous lands.

Reed worries that the current demand for critical minerals legitimizes what he calls "sacrifice zones"— critical mineral sites near Indigenous and poor communities that can bring an increased risk of sexual violence for Native women, contaminate waterways and create more air pollution.

"We have all these technocrats who come to these gatherings, and they advance these solutions without really actually thinking about what is the future they're creating," Reed says. "For me, that future that they're creating is increasing inequity."

Not all tribal nations oppose mineral extraction on their territories. "Some want the mining, some don't want the mining," says David Kaimowitz, who's the chief program officer at the Tenure Facility, an organization that supports Indigenous people's land rights and forest management.

"I would say they want the right to decide what's going to happen in their ancestral territories, where their forefathers and foremothers are buried, where they hope to raise their grandchildren and their grandchildren's grandchildren," Kamowitz says.

Under international law, Indigenous people have the right to free, prior, and informed consent, which allows tribal nations to decide what's going to happen on their territories, such as mining, solar and hydroelectric projects.

Heavy trucks drive through a nickel mining area in South Sulawesi, Indonesia. A recdnt study found that globally, 54% of all the minerals needed for the green energy transition are located on or near Indigenous lands.

Hariandi Hafid/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images

A Seat at the table

The 16th United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity in Colombia this fall formerly recognized Indigenous people for their expertise. Reed says that's a step in the right direction.

But getting "tangible decision-making participation" at the formal negotiations at COP, he says, is still a long shot given that negotiations happen between governments, nations and states.

Indigenous people, Kaimowitz says, have had some success raising awareness and significant funds outside the formal UN climate talks, such as a $1.7 billion commitment to protect Indigenous peoples rights and forests. This agreement came together during COP26 in Scotland in 2021 and was established by five governments and 25 public and philanthropic donors. According to the Forest Tenure Funders Group, nearly $1.3 billion has been distributed already.

A recent report by the group, found a majority of that money – over a billion dollars – has gone to consulting firms, governments and NGO's. Reed says the funds that actually go to Indigenous people are minuscule compared to what government and conservation organizations receive.

"While those things are good, and I appreciate the advocacy that Indigenous peoples have brought," explains Reed, "the underlying system is still deeply colonial and is still unwilling to share power."

Direct access to funds

The U.S. election also loomed over this year's COP. Indigenous advocates are concerned over whether President-elect Donald Trump will withdraw the U.S. again from the Paris Agreement, something he did during his first term. Trump has said he will likely withdraw the country again from an agreement that set a global goal to limit warming to certain levels.

Yazzie also worries Trump's second term will lead to fewer federal dollars for tribes in the U.S.— money that could address the effects of climate change such as sea level rise.

That's a concern Fawn Sharp shares. She's a Quinault Indian Nation tribal member and a board member of the Nature Conservancy Global. Her tribe is feeling the effects of sea-level rise in Washington state and needs funds to relocate to higher ground.

The tribe received $25 million to relocate some villages through the Biden administration. But Sharp says Quinault Nation needs $500 million more to move all the villages.

"We knew it was quite clear we're not going to see that coming out of the United States Congress any time soon," Sharp says. That's why, she says, they're looking internationally for partnerships "to move to higher ground, to restore our salmon habitat and build our ecosystems."

Looking to next year's COP

Brazil hosts next year's United Nations climate summit and already some are calling it the "Indigenous Peoples" COP.

That's because Brazil is where 305 ethnic groups and 1.7 million Indigenous people call home. Indigenous people are also included in government representation including establishing the Brazilian Ministry of Indigenous Peoples in 2023.

COP30 will mark the first time the climate summit will be held in the Amazon basin — home to the world's largest tropical rainforest which naturally stores planet-warming pollution. The Amazon continues to face significant challenges, including deforestation and human-caused climate change, which has brought increased temperatures and drought.

Deranger and Yazzie say they are already preparing for Brazil, where they plan to continue advocating for Indigenous rights and representation.

"Brazil's gonna definitely be the largest Indigenous participation in COP history," Yazzie says.

Travelers heading home from the Thanksgiving holiday this weekend could face severe weather and travel delays.

An arctic blast will bring the "coldest air since last winter" to Eastern portions of the county, the National Weather Service (NWS) said on Friday. The air mass from the Arctic is moving across the U.S. and will stay for the weekend, while the northern Plains will see temperatures in the single digits and teens.

Northeast parts of the country will see 30 to 40-degree temperatures while 20 and 30-degree temperatures will impact the Midwest. Wind chills will dip below zero in upper portions of the Midwest and northern Plains, with Minnesota and North and South Dakota seeing wind chills below -15 degrees.

"This will pose an increased risk of hypothermia and frostbite on exposed skin. While not quite as dangerous, wind chills will also still be bitterly cold across the Midwest and the Northeast Saturday with breezy winds expected," according to the NWS.

The Arctic blast, along with the lake effect snow blanketing upper portions of the Northeast and Midwest, is leading to dangerous conditions for travel and delays. Lake effect snow happens when cold air, including from Canada, moves across warm waters of the Great Lakes. Once this happens, moisture and heat rise into the atmosphere creating clouds that can produce more than 2 inches of snow an hour. 

Southern states are also expected to feel "subfreezing" temperatures in the morning stretching from the Atlantic coast in the southeast to the Gulf Coast, including possible frost in northern parts of Florida, the NWS says. The subfreezing temperatures can "kill crops and other sensitive vegetation as well as damage unprotected outdoor plumbing," the NWS says.

Weather officials in Buffalo, N.Y., on Friday warned that travel conditions are "poor" within areas where lake effect snow is falling and said to avoid travel in those areas. The lake effect snow is expected to continue through the weekend and some cities, including Watertown, are forecast to receive at least 6 feet of snow.

While parts of the country will see a not-so-wintery wonderland, rain and thunderstorms will fall in southern Texas and Florida. The rest of the country is expected to be mainly dry with normal or above-normal temperatures for this time of year.

Flights into and out of Erie International Airport were canceled Friday and its operating status was listed as "closed" as of 4:56 p.m. ET until 12 p.m. ET Saturday, according to the Federal Aviation Authority's (FAA) National Airspace System. More than 2,300 flights on Friday have been delayed into, within and out of the United States, according to FlightAware.

Travel bans along I-86 from the Pennsylvania state line to I-390 and other roadways went into effect Friday afternoon, with lake-effect snow warnings in effect across parts of New York through Monday. New York Gov. Kathy Hochul urged residents to prepare for the lake-effect snow and her office advised residents of "hazardous to impossible travel conditions" because of reduced visibility and snow-covered roads in west, central and northern parts of the state.

A public service campaign by the U.S Department of Homeland Security also urged travelers in areas with heavy snow to "limit the time outdoors & avoid driving if possible."

"If you must drive, clear ice & snow from your car, pack an emergency kit, drive slowly, and leave extra space between vehicles," the agency said in a post.

The cucumber outbreak sickened 68 people, including 18 who were hospitalized, in 19 states, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said Friday. No one has died. Produce grown in Sonora, Mexico, by Agrotato S.A. may be the culprit, the agency said.

A recall announced Thursday by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration was tied to the outbreak. SunFed Produce, based in Arizona, recalled cucumbers sold between Oct. 12 and Nov. 26, the FDA said.

The recall happened after SunFed was told by the FDA that there were associated illnesses reported between Oct. 12 and Nov. 15. People who bought cucumbers during the window should check with the store where they purchased them to see if the produce is part of the recall.

The egg recall involved nearly 11,000 cartons of 24-count organic eggs sold under Costco's Kirkland Signature brand that landed on shelves in Alabama, North Carolina, Georgia, South Carolina and Tennessee starting Nov. 22, according to the company's announcement posted Wednesday on the FDA website.

No illnesses were immediately reported. Handsome Brook Farms said the cartons included eggs that were "not intended for retail distribution." Shoppers should check to see whether their egg cartons have Julian code 327 printed on the side and have a use-by date of Jan. 5, 2025. If the eggs are included in the recall, throw them out or take them back to the store for a refund.

Customers who had either of the recalled food products should wash items and surfaces that may have been in contact with the foods using hot, soapy water or a dishwasher.

Salmonella can cause symptoms that begin six hours to six days after ingesting the bacteria and include diarrhea, fever and stomach cramps. Most people recover without treatment within a week, but young children, people older than 65 and those with weakened immune systems can become seriously ill.

Earlier this summer, a separate salmonella outbreak in cucumbers sickened 450 people in the U.S.