When the wind blows, trees shift and sway, reconfiguring their shape and their leaves in response. For parts of the year, that flow can also pluck pollen grains off the tree, carrying them on the winds. A new computational simulation models this pollen dispersal from a tree, with the aim of eventually integrating into a tool for urban planners.
Trees are an important component to fighting climate change, especially in cities, because they cool their surroundings in addition to providing fresh oxygen. But urban planners recognize the downsides to trees, too–allergies, anyone?–and, with the right tools, they could maximize the trees’ advantages while minimizing pollen spread for allergy-sufferers. (Image credit: M. Köles; research credit: T. Dbouk et al.; via Physics World)
On Earth, most waves form when wind blows across the water. The shear and added energy from the wind ripples the surface, eventually building up waves (through the Kelvin-Helmholtz instability). The same process should happen anywhere else where wind and open liquid surfaces meet–even on other planets. To explore this, researchers built a new model, PlanetWaves, that predicts the waves based on a planet’s gravity, atmospheric conditions, and the density, viscosity, and surface tension of its surface liquid.
After validating the model with conditions on Earth, the team explored wave conditions for Titan, ancient Mars, and several exoplanets. They found that Titan’s lighter gravity and liquid ethane (which is less dense than water) combined to make waves on Titan much taller than those generated at the same wind speed on Earth (top image). You can watch them in action in the video below. Standing in a light breeze on Titan, you’d watch giant 3-meter waves rolling in.
The team also found that waves on Mars would have gotten shorter as Mars lost its atmosphere and the air pressure dropped. Over time, the same wind speed would have elicited smaller and smaller waves. Wave action has a big effect on a landscape’s erosion, so understanding how waves look on other planets will help us parse their geography. (Video, image, and research credit: U. Schneck et al.; via MIT News; submitted by Joseph S.)
When a test tube of liquid hits a surface, the curvature of the meniscus focuses the rebounding fluid into a jet. In this video, researchers show some of the many variations they’ve explored on these experiments–from changing the depth of the fluid and the shape of the container, to changing the working fluid to honey or to dry grains. It’s a nice introduction to a fascinating phenomenon! (Video and image credit: H. Watanabe et al.; research credit: H. Watanabe et al. and K. Kobayashi et al.)
Animation showing how granular jets form in a test tube impact.
Our ears, like those of many other animals, convert mechanical signals to electrical ones, through a Rube-Goldberg-esque series of transformations. External sound waves make their way down the soft tube of the ear canal, which funnels them to a thin-walled cone, the eardrum, that’s about half as large as a dime. Here, the vibrating air pushes against the cone’s membrane, and those vibrations travel onward through a linked trio of small bones that amplify the vibration’s amplitude.
The last of these bones presses against an even smaller, oval-shaped membrane. As the bone moves, it shakes the membrane, sending waves through the liquid on its other side. Those waves travel down the spirals of the tiny, pea-sized cochlea, named for a snail shell’s shape. As the waves move through the liquid, they bend bundles of hair-like strands back and forth, like tall grass waving in a breeze. The bending triggers a chemical that binds to nerves at the base of the bundles, sending an electrical signal through the nerve and into the brain.
But the hair-like bundles, known as stereocilia, are also able to amplify incoming vibrations. In this case, the bundles in the outer portion of the cochlea expend energy to bend more than the incoming vibrations naturally make them move. This bending amplifies the fluid motion that gets transmitted to stereocilia further down the line; it’s those bundles that will make the final conversion to an electrical signal the brain receives. (Image credit: B. Kachar; research credit: Y. Thipmaungprom et al.; via APS)
Scanning electron microscope view of the stereocilia “hair bundles” inside a frog’s inner ear.
Fracture is a sudden, brittle breaking-apart that we generally associate with solid materials that get stressed too far. Some viscoelastic, non-Newtonian fluids have been known to fracture, but that was generally thought to be unusual. But a recent study turns that idea on its head, revealing that even simple, albeit highly viscous, liquids can fracture.
A viscous hydrocarbon fluid gets stretched at 100 mm/s, drawing it into a thinning shape.
When you stretch a liquid, the general expectation is what you see above: the liquid gets drawn into an ever thinner shape. But researchers found that–when stretched quickly–that same simple hydrocarbon liquid cracked open:
A viscous hydrocarbon fluid gets stretched at 300 mm/s, causing it to fracture like a solid.
There’s even an audible snap, which you can hear in the video below. The results were so surprising that they repeated the experiment several times and with different viscous (but Newtonian) liquids. The results held. When the liquids were pulled to a critical stress, they audibly snapped and fractured like a solid.
The next question, of course, is why this happens. The authors suspect (but have yet to show) that cavitation may be at play in the initiation of the crack that separates the liquid in two. (Image, video, and research credit: T. Lima et al.; via Gizmodo)
In planetary atmospheres, energy and vorticity can cascade from large scales to smaller ones, but the mechanics of this transfer remain somewhat elusive. In a recent experiment, researchers built a lab-scale representation of an atmosphere using a meter-scale rotating annular tank. The outer bottom edge of the tank gets heated–representing the sun’s warming at the equator–while a pipe in the center of the tank gets cooled near the tank surface, which mimics the chilling effect of the poles. Researchers filled the tank with a water-glycerol mixture and recorded how their artificial atmosphere responded at different rotation rates.
Two different rotating atmospheres, colored by vorticity (red clockwise, blue counterclockwise). The left version has a slower rate of rotation, and thus larger length scales.
The results show an energy spectrum that’s consistent with atmospheric observations–with a steep drop at large length scales and a flatter one at smaller scales. But interestingly, they also found that the cascade was temperature-dependent in ways that current models don’t predict. Untangling that effect could help us understand not only our atmosphere but those of other planets. (Image credit: tank – H. Scolan, animation – S. Ding et al.; research credit: S. Ding et al.; via APS)
Flow visualization is both an art and science in fluid dynamics. Here, researchers were interested in studying the separation bubble that forms over a backward-facing ramp–a shape that shows up, for example, on an aircraft. In these areas, the flow over the surface separates, leaving an unsteady, recirculating bubble.
That’s the flow that researchers are visualizing here. They’ve done so by adding tiny helium-filled soap bubbles to the flow. With bright lights illuminating the bubbles, each one leaves a streak in a photograph, showing where the bubble moved during the time the camera’s shutter was open. Although images like these are beautiful, they can also be analyzed by computers to extract the underlying flow that created the image. (Image and research credit: B. Steinfurth et al.; see also here)
When flow moves past a cylinder, vortices get shed in its wake. Known as a von Karman vortex street, this distinctive pattern is seen behind flags, islands, and even behind starships. Here, researchers are simulating flow of a viscoelastic fluid, where–unlike water or other Newtonian fluids–elastic stresses can build up.
As the flow hits the leading edge of the cylinder, the polymers in the fluid compress and then get stretched as the flow moves around the cylinder. The left image shows vorticity in the flow; the right shows elastic stresses. The large swirls are primary vortices–those shed off the cylinder. But look closely and you’ll see smaller secondary vortices curled up beside the primaries. These form when the elastic stresses in the fluid pull some of the shear layer into the wake. (Image and research credit: U. Patel et al.)
Although water can freeze below 0 degrees Celsius, it requires a little help–in the form of a nucleation site–to do so. Often temperatures must dip well below 0 degrees Celsius for droplets to become ice. But a new study shows that at least one fungus forms proteins that help the process along.
The proteins come from the Mortierellaceae fungal family, by way of a bacterial species some hundreds of thousands of years ago or more. In experiments, adding the fungal protein helped water freeze 10 or more degrees Celsius sooner than it otherwise would.
The authors note that there are many possible applications for this freezing additive; it could help preserve food or cells without requiring lower freezing temperatures that could damage delicate tissues. It could also serve as a cloud seeding chemical in place of toxic silver iodide particles. (Image and research credit: R. Eufemio et al.; via Gizmodo; see also V. Tech)
Icebergs have long served as a metaphor for not knowing what’s going on beneath the surface. Studies like today’s are a reminder of why that is. Researchers found that asymmetric icebergs–shaped, in this case, like a right triangular prism–can self-propel as they melt. Their shape forces cold, dense meltwater to slide down the surface, generating a sinking plume that propels the ice as a whole. The team demonstrated this effect in both fresh- and saltwater. For icebergs wandering into warm waters, the effect is particularly strong and may reach levels about 10% of the magnitude of dominant propulsive forces like wind. (Image and research credit: M. Berhanu et al.; via APS)
