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  • Salty Comets

    Salty Comets

    Many of the products we use every day in our homes behave like solids until the right force is applied. These yield-stress fluids are like hand sanitizer – strong enough to suspend millimeter-sized particles when still but capable of flowing easily when pumped. In hand sanitizer, this is because the fluid is made up of swollen microgel particles that are jammed together. To rearrange, they need a certain amount of force applied. The weight of the sugars, capsules, and particulates added to the product aren’t heavy enough to move the jammed microgels, so they stay suspended.

    But researchers found that if they add a salt crystal of the same size and weight (bottom image), it sinks steadily through the gel. The salt’s velocity is constant; it doesn’t change with size as we might expect. That’s because it’s not falling by forcing the microgel particles to move. Instead, its salinity forces the microgel to release its absorbed liquid; basically, it’s collapsing the jammed particles. It falls steadily because it takes a given amount of time to collapse each gel particle.  (Image credits: microgel – N. Sharp; salt comet – A. Nowbahar et al.; research credit: A. Nowbahar et al.)

  • Polygonal Droplets

    Polygonal Droplets

    Spheres are a special shape; they provide the smallest possible surface area necessary to contain a given volume. And since surface tension tries to minimize surface energy by reducing the surface area, drops and soap bubbles are, generally, spherical. There’s subtlety here, though: namely, what if reducing the surface area doesn’t minimize the surface energy?

    That’s the issue at the heart of this study. It looks at microscale oil droplets, like the ones above, that are floating in water and stabilized by surfactants. We’d expect droplets like these to be round, and above a critical temperature, they are. But as the temperature drops, the surfactant molecules along the droplet’s interface crystallize. The drop itself is still liquid, but interface is not.

    This changes the rules of the game. There’s no way for the surfactant molecules to form a sphere when solidified; they simply can’t fit together that way. So instead defects form along the interface and the drop becomes faceted. As the temperature drops further, the energy relationship between the water, oil, and surfactants continues shifting, causing the droplet to change shape – even to increase its surface area – all to minimize the overall energy. The effect is reversible, too. Raise the temperature back up above the critical point, and the interface “thaws” so that the drop becomes round again. (Image and research credit: S. Guttman et al.; via Forbes; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)

  • Order in Chaos

    Order in Chaos

    Although turbulent flow is chaotic, it’s not completely disordered. In fact, order can emerge from turbulence, though exactly how this happens has been a long-enduring mystery. Take the animations above. They show the flow that develops between two plates moving in opposite direction that are separated by a small gap. (The formal name for this is planar Couette flow.) The visualization is taken in a plane at a fixed height between the plates.

    Initially (top), the flow shows narrow bands of turbulence, shown in green, separated by calmer, laminar zones in black. As time passes, these areas of laminar and turbulent flow self-organize, eventually forming diagonal stripes that are much longer than the gap between plates (bottom), the natural length-scale we would expect to see in the flow. Researchers have wondered for years why these distinctive stripes form. What sets their spacing, and why are they along diagonals?

    To answer those questions, researchers explored the full Navier-Stokes equations, searching for equilibrium solutions that resemble the striped patterns seen in experiments and simulation. And for the first time, they’ve found a mathematical solution that matches. What the work shows is that the pattern emerges naturally from the equations; in fact, given the characteristics of the solution, the researchers found that many disturbances should lead to this result, which explains why the pattern appears so frequently. (Image and research credit: F. Reetz et al., source; via phys.org; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)

  • The Shape of Splashes

    The Shape of Splashes

    When a wedge falls into a pool, it creates a distinctive, doubly-curved splash. Here’s how it works. When the front of the wedge first enters the water, it creates a thin sheet of fluid that gets ejected diagonally upward. As the wedge sinks further, the sheet thickens and ejects at a more vertical angle. That creates a low pressure zone in the air beside the splash, which causes outside air to flow inward, generating a sort of Venturi effect under the splash. Because the outer part of the splash sheet is thinner, it’s more strongly affected by the air flow beneath it, and it gets pulled downward, enhancing the splash’s curvature.

    This doubly-curved splash is particular to wedges of the right angle. To see what kind of splashes other shapes make, check out the video below. (Image and video credit: Z. Sakr et al.; for more, see L. Vincent et al.)

  • Pluto’s Subsurface Ocean

    Pluto’s Subsurface Ocean

    Since the New Horizons probe visited Pluto in 2015, scientists have suspected that Sputnik Planitia (a.k.a. Pluto’s Heart), shown above, may hide a subsurface ocean. But it’s tough to explain how that ocean could stay warm enough to be liquid while the surface ice remains cold and viscous enough to support the variations in thickness we see. One theory cites the possibility of ammonia in the ocean, essentially serving as anti-freeze, but that would require much higher concentrations of ammonia than have been observed in comets – which, like Pluto, spend most of their time in the icy, frigid regions of the Kuiper Belt.

    A new study suggests another theory: a layer of gas-trapping hydrates between the liquid ocean and its icy cap. A thin layer of clathrate hydrates, as proposed by the authors, would trap gases like methane and create a thermally-insulating layer between a warm ocean and much colder ice cap. Because heat would struggle to cross the insulation layer, the water beneath would stay above the freezing point without the cold ice above leeching all of its warmth away.

    It would likely require future missions to Pluto or other potential ocean worlds to confirm the presence of such a hydrate layer, but, for now, the theory provides a possible new explanation for how icy objects like Pluto maintain liquids. (Image credit: NASA/JHU Applied Physics Laboratory/SwRI; research credit: S. Kamata et al.; via Gizmodo)

  • Giving Chocolate that Smooth Finish

    Giving Chocolate that Smooth Finish

    Anyone who’s tried to make chocolate confections at home can tell you that achieving that perfect smooth consistency isn’t easy. It was only after Rodolphe Lindt invented the process of conching in 1879 that anyone enjoyed smooth chocolate. Conching is what allows granular solids like sugar, milk and cocoa powders to mix with liquid cocoa butter into a smooth, homogeneous liquid. Although the process has been known for more than a century, it’s only recently that researchers have unraveled the underlying physics that enables it.

    One of the key parameters to conching is the a mixture’s jamming volume fraction; in other words, the point where the fraction of solid particles in the mixture is too high for it to flow freely. In the first stage of conching, the solid particulates and a small amount of liquid are stirred and slowly heated. The mechanical action of stirring breaks up aggregates and raises the jamming volume fraction. By the end of the dry conche, the mixture could flow, in theory, except that it fractures at a lower stress than what’s necessary to flow.

    At this point, chocolatiers add the remainder of the liquid ingredients. That infusion of moisture decreases the friction between solid particles and further raises the jamming volume fraction. With the system now far below that jamming point, the mixture transforms into a freely-flowing, smooth fluid. By understanding the intricacies of the process, scientists hope to reduce the energy necessary in chocolate production and similar industrial processes.  (Image credit: A. Stein; research credit: E. Blanco et al.; via Physics World; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)

  • The Leidenfrost Crack

    The Leidenfrost Crack

    In 1756, Leidenfrost reported on the peculiar behaviors of droplets on surface much hotter than the liquid’s boiling point. Such droplets were highly mobile, surfing on a thin layer of their own vapor and were prone to loud cracking noises.

    More recently, scientists have observed that drops with an initially small radius eventually rocket off the hot surface whereas larger drops end their lives in an explosion (above) – the source of Leidenfrost’s crack. Now researchers have explained why drops of different sizes have such different fates. The key is their level of contamination.

    To reach the take-off radius, the drop has to evaporate a significant portion of its volume. For an initially-large drop, that’s tough because any solid contaminants in the drop will build up along the surface of the drop as it shrinks. Eventually, they restrict the liquid from evaporating, which thins the vapor layer the drop sits on. It sinks until a part of it touches the surface. The sudden influx of heat from the surface explosively destroys whatever remains of the drop. (Image and research credit: S. Lyu et al.; via Brown University; submitted by gdurey)

  • Featured Video Play Icon

    Drinking Coffee in Space

    You probably don’t give much thought to the forces involved in drinking here on Earth. That’s because gravity’s effects dominate over everything else. Our cups are designed to hold a liquid until we use gravity to pour it into our mouths. But that technique doesn’t work in microgravity. There other forces govern how liquids flow: specifically surface tension and capillary action.

    Both of these forces are the result of intermolecular attractions. In the case of surface tension, it’s the attraction that the molecules of a liquid feel for one another that keeps them in a cohesive bunch. Capillary action is similar, but it’s an attraction between the liquid molecules and those of the solid they’re wetting. When you combine them both, you get the ability for liquids to climb up a narrow gap and pull more liquid up behind them. That’s the key science behind every version of the “space cup” developed by astronaut Don Pettit and his collaborators. 

    To hear more about the development and engineering of the cup (and exactly why it makes drinking coffee so much more enjoyable in space than it would be otherwise) check out the full video. And, in case you’re wondering, there’s a special microgravity champagne flute, too! (Image and video credit: It’s Okay to Be Smart)

  • Inside an Evaporating Drop

    Inside an Evaporating Drop

    The evaporation of a simple droplet holds far more complexity than one would expect. If you look closely at the edge of the drop, there’s a tiny, beautiful display at work. It begins with small variations in surface tension at the contact line where solid, liquid, and gas meet. These could be caused by local temperature or concentration differences; either way, the gradient in surface tension creates a flow. It starts out as a series of microjets spaced evenly around the contact line (left). 

    As the microjets strengthen, they merge into larger and larger vortical structures (right). This kind of feature – large structures emerging from smaller ones – is known as an inverse cascade. Fluid dynamicists have traditionally studied the classic (turbulent) energy cascade, where kinetic energy moves from large scales into smaller ones, but researchers are beginning to recognize more situations where the inverse cascade occurs, such as in the storms of Jupiter. (Image and research credit: A. Ghasemi et al., source)

  • Plant Week: Bunchberry Dogwood

    Plant Week: Bunchberry Dogwood

    The bunchberry dogwood, unlike its taller relatives, is a low-lying subshrub that spreads along the ground. But it sports some of the fastest action of any plant, requiring 10,000 frames per second to capture! When young buds form in the bunchberry flower, their four petals are fused, completely hiding the stamens. As the plant matures, the pollen-carrying stamens grow faster than the petals, causing them to peek out the sides of the bud. But the petals stay attached at the tip, holding the stamens in while pressure inside the stamens creates a store of elastic energy.

    When disturbed, the petals break loose and the stamens spring up and out. The anthers at their tips hold the pollen in place until the stamen reaches its maximum vertical velocity, at which point the anthers swing out to release the pollen upward. In essence, the flower works in the same manner as a trebuchet, flinging pollen with an acceleration 2,400 times greater than gravity. That’s enough to coat pollen onto nearby insects and to launch the remainder high enough for the wind to catch it. (Image and research credit: D. Whitaker et al., source; via Science News; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)

    And with that, FYFD’s Plant Week is a wrap! Missed one of the previous posts? You can catch up with them here.

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