I’ve always thought of hurricanes as minuscule galaxies, lording over the oceans, spinning endlessly until they meet with their target and their demise simultaneously.  Then again, I don’t know many galaxies.  Nor do I know many hurricanes.  I haven’t had much time to introduce myself to any.

Generally speaking, we know very little about galaxies, but we know tons about hurricanes.  Speaking of tons, did you know that Earth’s atmosphere weighs 5.5 quadrillion of them?  Okay, so maybe the weight of our atmosphere isn’t entirely important to the subject at hand, but it’s pretty cool.  Especially considering that our atmosphere has a huge role in the formation of a hurricane.  Let me explain:

The atmosphere is warmest when it is closest to the surface of the Earth.  As this air gets hot enough, it rises, making the more dense, high-pressure, cool air sink beneath it.  A very important factor to this equation is that, though hurricanes form in the atmosphere, this gives us a lot to consider (a range as large as, I don’t know, the whole surface of the Earth…).  Hurricanes form specifically over warm oceans.  Think of the water system for a second.  When vapor rises, it creates clouds as it condenses, which then leads to rain, which allows the water to return to the surface of the Earth. What separates a hurricane from an average rainstorm is that when that warms, humid air rises from the ocean and condenses, it lets off heat, which then makes the air around it increase in temperature as well.  The cycle then continues, sucking up more hot, moist air, sending it into higher levels of the atmosphere in the process.  All this movement of the heat then causes wind, which moves very similarly to “water going down a drain” (Howstuffworks.com). If you’re a person who likes to have their head up in the sky like me, a galaxy rotating.

So now the spinning storm is evolving.  It’s sitting in the ocean having a grand old time.  But, it needs someone to keep it from getting out of line.  Cue the converging winds, and the winds operating at the higher altitudes.  These strengthen the hurricane, and keep it from breaking apart, respectively.  Rise up another 30,000 feet or so, and there’s yet more wind driving the beast.  It sends more hot air to the low-pressure center of the storm, acting kind of like an umbilical cord to a fetus, feeding the storm until it is strong enough.  When it gains its status in the weather world, it gets named.  Thus, a hurricane is born.

Eliza Mitchell can be reached for comment at [email protected]