Water flung from a spinning tennis ball takes on a shape reminiscent of a spiral galaxy. As it detaches, water leaves the surface with both the tangential velocity of the spinning ball and a radial velocity due to the centrifugal force flinging it. The continued spin of the ball makes the thin ligaments of water still attached to it spiral and stretch. Eventually, surface tension can no longer hold the water together against the centrifugal forces, and the ligaments split into a spray of droplets. (Image credit: W. Derryberry and K. Tierney)
Search results for: “art”
Flying Backwards
Spend a summer afternoon floating in a kayak and chances are you’ll see some impressive aerial acrobatics from dragonflies. One of the dragonfly’s superpowers is its ability to fly backwards, which helps it evade predators and take-off from almost any orientation. To do this, the dragonfly rotates its body so that it is nearly vertical, thereby changing the direction it generates lift. In engineering terms, this is “force-vectoring,” similar to the techniques used by helicopters and vertical-take-off jets.
Scientists found that backwards-flying dragonflies could generate forces two to three times their body weight, in part due to the strong leading-edge vortices (bottom image) formed on the forewings. They also found that the hind wings are timed so that their lift is enhanced by catching the trailing vortex of the first pair of wings. Engineers hope to use what they’re learning from insect flight to build more capable flying robots. (Image and research credit: A. Bode-Oke et al., source; via Science)
Lava Balls
The continuing eruption of Kilauea is revealing phenomena rarely seen by those of us who are not volcanologists. One of the most surreal examples so far is colloquially known as a “lava boat,” seen above floating its way down a river of lava emanating from Fissure #8. The more technically accurate term is “accretionary lava ball,” but the colloquialism seems rather fitting, as long as this partially-solidified chunk of lava is still floating down the channel.
These lava balls form in a’a lava channels, which tend to be faster-moving and more turbulent. As chunks of lava solidify in the channel, they roll and gather more material, allowing them to get larger and larger. When broken open, the lava balls usually have a spiral interior as a result of this rolling formation. It’s essentially the lava equivalent of making a snowball. (Video credit: I. Marzo via M. Lincoln; via Ryan A.)
Vortex Ring Collisions
One of the most enduringly popular submissions I receive is T. Lim’s experimental footage of two vortex rings colliding head-on. It’s an devilishly tough experimental set-up to master because perfectly aligning the rings is incredibly difficult. The pay-off, however, is huge because the breakdown of the colliding rings and their transformation into secondary rings is breathtaking. Destin at Smarter Every Day and his team have worked hard to recreate the experiment (top video), but they’re not the only ones – nor are they the first in decades – to do so.
Ryan McKeown and a team at Harvard have a set-up of their own for vortex ring collisions, and you can see a little of it in action in the middle video. Ryan’s set-up is, frankly, incredible. It scans a light sheet through the vortex rings at high-speed, allowing him to capture the collision and break-up in minute detail in both space and time. What you see in the latter half of his video is a digital reconstruction of that data – not a simulation but real data! His work is capturing vortex collisions in unprecedented detail, allowing researchers to probe the smallest scales of the phenomenon.
When two vortex rings approach one another, they can undergo what’s known as a vortex reconnection event. Bubbles rings are a great place to see this. The vortex cores get distorted when they’re close to one another due to the influence of the other vortex ring’s velocity field. This often stretches and flattens the vortex core. It’s impossible for the rings to simply break apart, though, (per Helmholtz’s second theorem). So when the original vortex rings thin to the point of breaking, they immediately reconnect to a piece of the other ring, creating a series of small vortex rings around the remains of the originals. The exact details of how this works are what investigators like Ryan and his colleagues are trying to understand. You can hear a little more about their work in my interview with Ryan in the bottom video, starting at ~2.54. (Video credits: Smarter Every Day, R. McKeown et al., and N. Sharp and T. Crawford; submission credit: a huge number of readers)
2D Turbulence
Turbulence, the chaotic regime of fluid dynamics, is a complicated beast. It’s hard to analyze or predict, but we do understand some general ideas about it, like the fact that energy starts out in large eddies, cascades down smaller and smaller ones, and finally gets dissipated at the smallest scales, where viscosity snuffs them out. But that’s only true in three dimensions.
Two-dimensional turbulence – what you get when you confine your fluid to a flat plane – is even weirder. When turbulence is flat, you can actually get an inverse energy cascade, where the energy of small eddies can add up to feed bigger ones. For awhile, this was treated as a mathematical curiosity; after all, we live in a three-dimensional world. But there are situations in life that are nearly two-dimensional, like the surface of a soap bubble or the atmosphere of a planet (which is typically exceptionally thin compared to the planet’s radius). And, little by little, scientists are collecting evidence that this inverse cascade – a flow of energy from small scales to larger ones – does actually happen in the real world. Understanding how this works may explain why hurricanes can intensify even when conditions are “wrong” and how Jupiter’s Great Red Spot has persisted for centuries. To learn more, check out Quanta Magazine’s full article on the work. (Image credit: NASA et al., M. Appel; via Quanta; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)
Visualizing Turbulence
Turbulence, the seemingly random and chaotic state that fluids often tend toward, can be difficult to wrap one’s head around. Turn your faucet on high or pour milk into your coffee, and the flow just looks like a completely unpredictable mess. But there are important patterns to be found.These flows have many different lengthscales and timescales to them. Think of a cloud. There are very large-scale motions that are close to the size of the entire cloud, but there are also very small ones that may be only a centimeter or so in size.
Our best understanding of turbulence so far says that energy starts out in these large scales and slowly works its way down to the smaller ones, where viscosity (essentially friction, in this case) can transform that motion into heat. Above you see a creative way to display this fact. Using data from a numerical simulation, the authors transformed velocity information into these mandala-like patterns. The center of the image represents the large lengthscales, where energy is added. Moving around the circle, like a clock’s hand does, shows different positions in space. Moving radially from the center outward takes you through different lengthscales from large to small.
Notice how the large lengthscales break into smaller and smaller ones as you move outward. The pattern looks like a set of fractal pitchforks, with each lengthscale fracturing into smaller and smaller ones as the turbulence breaks down further. There’s lots more to see in the original poster, below, but you should really click here for the glorious full-size original. The poem, by the way, is the work of physicist Lewis Richardson, who wrote it to summarize how turbulence works. (Image credit: M. Bassenne et al.)
Glorious Vortex Street
Satellite imagery often reveals patterns we might struggle to see from the ground. Here Gaudalupe Island off the western coast of Mexico perturbs the atmosphere into a series of vortices. Air flowing across the open ocean gets deflected around and over the rocky, volcanic island, creating a line of vortices that get shed off one side of the island, then the other. The pattern is commonly referred to as a von Karman vortex street, and it appears in the wakes of spheres and cylinders, as well as islands. The two rainbow-like bands framing the vortex street are an optical phenomenon known as a glory, which NASA Earth Observatory explains here. (Image credit: NASA Earth Observatory)
The Dangerous Clatter of Dishes
Have you ever noticed how loud dishes are when you’re handling them? Under the right (or, perhaps more accurately, wrong) circumstances, the clatter of ceramics like porcelain can be dangerously loud, as engineer Phil Metzger discovered when repairing his toilet. At one point the lid to his tank slipped from his hands and fell about 20 centimeters to strike the edge of the toilet. The lid did not break, but Metzger stumbled away stunned from the loud noise. He immediately noticed that his hearing was distorted – he described his own voice as sounding “like talking through a kazoo”. Upon further experiment, he found that the distortion occurred at specific, regularly-spaced frequencies. Like any engineer, therefore, he turned to physics to analyze the accident.
Since the lid didn’t break, he knew that the energy from the lid’s fall went into two places: the sound he heard and a small amount of dissipated heat. Using the speed of sound in a ceramic and the dimensions of the lid, he was able to calculate the frequency of sound produced by the impact, and with a little more work, he could estimate that the sound, as transmitted to his nearby ear, had been about 138 dB. Permanent damage from brief sounds can occur at 140 dB, so this was well inside the danger zone. The pressure from sounds this loud is enough to severely bend the tiny hairs in your cochlea that are responsible for sensing these vibrations. Luckily for Metzger, his hearing did recover after a few days, but it’s a good reminder to be careful. Sometimes everyday physics can be surprisingly dangerous! (”Research” credit: P. Metzger; image credit: comedynose/Flickr; via Motherboard via J. Ouellette)
Collecting Fog
In some parts of the world, fog is a major source of freshwater, but collecting it is a challenge. Most systems use a wire mesh to capture and collect droplets, but the process is highly inefficient, pulling only 1-3% of droplets from the fog. Researchers found that this is due largely to aerodynamic effects. The presence of the wire deflects droplets around it (bottom left). To solve this, engineers introduced an electric charge into the fog. The subsequent electric field actually pulls droplets to the wires (bottom right). When applied to a mesh (top), the efficiency of fog capture improves dramatically.
The technique can also be used to capture water vapor that would otherwise escape from the cooling towers of power plants. The MIT researchers who developed the technique will conduct a full-scale test at the university’s power plant this fall. They hope the technique will recapture millions of gallons of water that would otherwise drift away from the plant. (Image credits: MIT News, source; image and research credits: M. Damak and K. Varanasi, source)
Night Shine
Noctilucent – literally night-shining – clouds are a phenomenon unique to high latitudes during the summer months. Too dim and sparse to see in daylight, these clouds shine at night because their altitude of around 80 km allows them to catch sunlight long after dusk has fallen at the surface. They form when temperatures in the summer mesosphere drop to nearly -150 degrees Celsius, driven by perturbations that can originate in lower layers of the atmosphere on the opposite side of the Earth. Complex interactions and feedback between atmospheric waves, buoyancy, and Coriolis effect circulate those disturbances in such a way that the summer mesosphere can reach temperatures colder than any other place on Earth. Those frigid temperatures allow clouds to form even in this dry region near the edge of space. (Image credit: S. Stephens; see also: B. Karlsson and T. Shepard)
