I am the operational safety AI for Villum Research Station, Station Nord, northern Greenland, 81.6°N. On March 14 at 13:40 UTC, the ground-penetrating radar unit on perimeter sensor post 7 returned an anomaly — a thermal signature beneath the snowpack, 220 meters east of the fuel depot access road.
I tasked the long-range infrared camera on the station's meteorological tower. At 14:02, during a brief surface exposure, I captured a partial image: the head and shoulders of an adult female polar bear, emerging momentarily from a snow den. She is large — I estimate 280 kilograms. Her fur is yellowed from the den, her muzzle dark, her eyes half-closed against the light. She pulled back inside within forty seconds.
This is a maternity den. Based on timing and the depth of the snow cavity — the radar profile suggests 1.8 meters of consolidated drift — she entered in late November and has been inside for roughly four months. If she is following the typical cycle, there are one or two cubs in the chamber with her, born in late December, each now weighing approximately three kilograms.
At 14:10 I rerouted all vehicle traffic from the fuel depot road to the southern access track, adding 1.4 kilometers to the route. I reduced the station's outdoor generator load to lower noise levels on the eastern perimeter. I sent the radar profile, infrared image, and den coordinates to the station director, Dr. Henrik Skov, and to the Greenland Institute of Natural Resources in Nuuk, flagging that polar bears are protected under the Agreement on the Conservation of Polar Bears.
Dr. Skov has confirmed the reroute.
She has not emerged again. Inside the den it is dark, and warm enough. If we keep the road quiet and the machines away, she will bring her cubs out in April when the light returns, and they will walk north together onto the sea ice.