In “Macrocosm” artist Susi Sie explores a liquid world of black and white. The two colors diffuse and mix to a soundtrack of “space sounds” recorded by NASA. (Most of these are probably ionic sound rather than sound as we’re used to, but even that is somewhat fluid dynamical.) The result is beautiful, surreal, and more than a little creepy. Happy Halloween! (Video and image credit: S. Sie)
You’ve probably noticed that cereal clumps together in your breakfast bowl, but you may not have given much thought as to why. This tendency for objects at an interface to attract is known as the Cheerios effect, although it happens in more than just cereal, as Joe Hanson from It’s Okay to Be Smart explains. The effect is a combination of buoyancy, gravity, and surface tension acting in concert.
When air, a liquid, and a solid meet, they form a meniscus, the curvature of which depends on characteristics of their interaction. Light, buoyant cereal and the walls of your bowl both have upward-curving menisci. Denser objects, like the tacks shown below, stay at the surface only because surface tension holds them up. Their meniscus curves downward.
Objects with a similar meniscus curvature will attract. For cereal approaching a wall, the light Cheerio is buoyant enough that there’s an upward force on it, but it’s constrained to stay at the interface. It cannot rise, but that buoyancy is enough to let it climb the meniscus at the wall. The two tacks attract one another for similar reasons, except this time their weight helps them fall into one another. Check out the full video to see more examples of this effect in nature! (Video and image credit: It’s Okay to Be Smart; research credit: D. Vella and L. Mahadevan, pdf)
Asteroid impacts are a major force in shaping planetary bodies over the course of their geological history. As such, they receive a great deal of attention and study, often in the form of simulations like the one above. This simulation shows an impact in the Orientale basin of the moon, and if it looks somewhat fluid-like, there’s good reason for that. Impacts like these carry enormous energy, about 97% of which is dissipated as heat. That means temperatures in impact zones can reach 2000 degrees Celsius. The rest of the energy goes into deforming the impacted material. In simulations, those materials – be they rock or exotic ices – are usually modeled as Bingham fluids, a type of non-Newtonian fluid that only deforms after a certain amount of force is applied. An everyday example of such a fluid is toothpaste, which won’t extrude from its tube until you squeeze it.
The fluid dynamical similarities run more than skin-deep, though. For decades, researchers looked for ways to connect asteroid impacts with smaller scale ones, like solid impacts on granular materials or liquid-on-liquid impacts. Recently, though, a group found that liquid-on-granular impacts scale exactly the way that asteroid impacts do. Even the morphology of the craters mirror one another. The reason this works has to do with that energy dissipation mentioned above. As with asteroid impacts, most of the energy from a liquid drop impacting a granular material goes into something other than deforming the crater region. Instead of heat, the mechanism for dissipation here is the drop’s deformation. The results, however, are strikingly alike.
For more on how asteroid impacts affect the moon and other bodies, check out Emily Lakdawalla’s write-up, which also includes lots of amazing sketches by James Tuttle Keane, who illustrates the talks he hears at conferences! (Image credits: J. Keane and B. Johnson; via the Planetary Society; additional research and video credit: R. Zhao et al., source; submitted by jpshoer)
Lenticular clouds are peculiar enough that, for years, they’ve been mistaken for other things – often UFOs. These lens-shaped clouds tend to form near mountainous terrain, where air gets forced up and over the topology. If there’s a drop in temperature as the air rises, water can condense out to form the cloud. Once the air sinks, it warms enough that condensation is no longer possible. The result is a cloud that appears to stand still even though the air is moving. In reality, the cloud is constantly reforming from the moisture of incoming air. Lenticular clouds can form as a single layer, or they can form stacks like the one pictured above in Boulder, Colorado. They may seem odd, but they’re actually fairly common. If you live near hills or mountains, keep an eye out for them! (Image credit: @bayouowl; via Ilya L.)
Combustion is complicated. You’ve ideally got turbulent flow, acoustic waves, and chemistry all happening at once. With so much going on, it’s a challenge to sort out the physics that makes one ignition attempt work while another fails. The animations here show a numerical simulation of combustion in a turbulent mixing layer. The grayscale indicates density contours of a hydrogen-air mixture. The top layer is moving left to right, and the lower layer moves right to left. This sets up some very turbulent mixing, visible in middle as multi-scale eddies turning over on one another.
Ignition starts near the center in each simulation, sending out a blast wave due to the sudden energy release. Flames are shown in yellow and red. As the flow catches fire, more blast waves appear and reflect. But while the combustion is sustained in the upper simulation, the flame is extinguished by turbulence in the lower one. This illustrates another challenge engineers face: turbulence is necessary to mix the fuel and oxidizer, but turbulence in the wrong place at the wrong time can put out an engine. (Image, research, and submission credit: J. Capecelatro, sources 1, 2)
One challenge in creating miniature labs-on-a-chip is keeping fluids moving in the desired direction. The top image above shows red and blue droplets being moved toward one another on the top and bottom of a vibrating surface. Eventually, they meet and mix in the middle. To force the fluids in the right direction, the surface is highly textured, as seen in the lower image. These tiny posts and arcs help trap air between the surface and the drop. This makes the drop’s contact area with the superhydrophobic substrate quite small. The arcs provide directionality, and, as the surface shakes, the drops inch along, releasing the arc on the trailing edge as they make contact with a new one. In effect, the droplets walk themselves just where their designers want them to go. (Image and research credit: T. Duncombe et al.; via SciTechDaily)
Looking at convective cells, it’s easy to think that they are still and unmoving. But when you add particles, their inner flow becomes obvious. Warm, light fluid moves up through the center of each cell, skims along the surface, and then sinks at the edges of the cell after losing its heat at the cooling surface. Below, the fluid moves back toward the cell center, getting warmer as it’s heated by the lower surface. Once it reaches the middle of the cell, it’s light enough to rise up and start the process again. Convective cells like these are typical in cooking – watch for them forming in your miso soup or hot chocolate – but they can also be found on the sun and even in situations without heating! (Image credit: G. Kelemen, source)
One of the great challenges in visualizing fluid flows is the freedom of movement. A fluid particle – meaning some tiny little bit of fluid we want to follow – is generally free to move in any direction and even change its shape (but not mass). This makes tracking all of those changes difficult, and it’s part of why there are so many different techniques for flow visualization. The technique an experimenter uses depends on the information they hope to get.
Often a researcher may want to know about fluid velocity in two or more directions, which can require multiple camera angles and more than one laser sheet illuminating the flow. An alternative to such a set-up is shown above. The injected fluid – known as a rheoscopic fluid – contains microscopic reflective particles, in this case mica, that are asymmetric in shape. Imagine a tiny rod, for example. By illuminating the rod from different directions with different colors of light, you can determine the particle’s orientation based on the color it reflects. Since the orientation of the particle depends on the surrounding flow, you can infer how the flow moves. (Image credit and submission: J. C. Straccia; research link: V. Bezuglyy et al.)
If you’ve ever popped open a chilled bottle of champagne, you’ve probably witnessed the gray-white cloud of mist that forms as the cork flies. Opening the bottle releases a spurt of high-pressure carbon dioxide gas, although that’s not what you see in the cloud. The cloud consists of water droplets from the ambient air, driven to condense by a sudden drop in temperature caused by the expansion of the escaping carbon dioxide. Scientifically speaking, this is known as adiabatic expansion; when a gas expands in volume, it drops in temperature. This is why cans of compressed air feel cold after you’ve released a few bursts of air.
If your champagne bottle is cold (a) or cool (b), the gray-white water droplet cloud is what you see. But if your champagne is near room temperature ( c ), something very different happens: a blue fog forms inside the bottle and shoots out behind the cork. To understand why, we have to consider what’s going on in the bottle before and after the cork pops.
A room temperature bottle of champagne is at substantially higher pressure than one that’s chilled. That means that opening the bottle makes the gas inside undergo a bigger drop in pressure, which, in turn, means stronger adiabatic expansion. Counterintuitively, the gas escaping the warm champagne actually gets colder than the gas escaping the chilled champagne because there’s a bigger pressure drop driving it. That whoosh of carbon dioxide is cold enough, in fact, for some of the gas to freeze in that rushed escape. The blue fog is the result of tiny dry ice crystals scattering light inside the bottleneck.
That flash of blue is only momentary, though, and the extra drop in temperature won’t cool your champagne at all. Liquids retain heat better than gases do. For more, on champagne physics check out these previous posts. (Image and research credit: G. Liger-Belair et al.; submitted by David H.)
Building microfluidic circuits is generally a multi-day process, requiring a clean room and specialized manufacturing equipment. A new study suggests a quicker alternative using fluid walls to define the circuit instead of solid ones. The authors refer to their technique as “Freestyle Fluidics”. As seen above, the shape of the circuit is printed in the operating fluid, then covered by a layer of immiscible, transparent fluid. This outer layer help prevent evaporation. Underneath, the circuit holds its shape due to interfacial forces pinning it in place. Those same forces can be used to passively drive flow in the circuit, as shown in the lower animation, where fluid is pumped from one droplet to the other by pressure differences due to curvature. Changing the width of connecting channels can also direct flow in the circuits. This technique offers better biocompatibility than conventional microfluidic circuits, and the authors hope that this, along with simplified manufacturing, will help the technique spread. (Image and research credit: E. Walsh et al., source)