Arctic Riddles for Polar Explorers

I shimmer green with curtains bright. Look up north to see my light.

I float on the sea yet I am not a boat. Seals sunbathe on me as I slowly float.

I stomp on snow with paws so wide. My white fur helps me hide.

I carve the land with frozen might. Dragging stones by day and night.

I’m a furry coat with snowshoe feet. I turn winter white to stay discreet.

I’m the sun at midnight glowing low. In summer north, I barely go.

I cling to cliffs and squawk in flocks. My black-and-white tux rocks.

I carve thin slits to tame the glare. Wear me on ice for vision to spare.

I’m a sled that glides on icy lanes. Harness huskies and hold the reins.

I hum beneath ice with submarine song. Scientists listen all winter long.

I’m a compass-free guide with stars up high. Follow the Big Dipper across the sky.

I’m a coat of crystals catching light. Tiny six-pointed works of white.

I’m a frozen ocean sealed tight. Break me open if you need a light.

I’m a shelter of snow built snug and round. Crawl inside for warmth profound.

I’m a research base on permafrost ground. Scientists study me year-round.