Australian photographer Ray Collins captures some of the most impressively dynamic photographs of ocean waves I’ve ever seen. The textures of the water range from glassy smooth to scaled to violent sprays of droplets. You can easily get lost in every image. For more, check out his website and Instagram. (Image credits: R. Collins; via Colossal)
Although COVID has disrupted all of our lives, orchestras saw particular disruption, as little was known about how instruments spread aerosol droplets. In this recent study, a team looked at many wind instruments, as played by professional musicians, for the aerosol load and air flow each instrument creates. They found that, on the whole, wind instruments — like flutes, clarinets, trumpets, and others — create aerosol loads comparable to normal speech. The air flow from each instrument comes primarily from the bell (for brass instruments) or tone holes (for woodwinds) and has a much lower velocity than coughing or sneezing. As a result, the flow decays away to the background air-flow after about 2 meters. (Image credit: trumpet – E. Awuy, trombone – Q. Brosseau et al.; research credit: Q. Brosseau et al.)
How a simple drop of water sits on a surface is a strangely complicated question. The answer depends on the droplet’s size, its chemistry, the roughness of the surface, and what kind of material it’s sitting on. Vetting the mathematical models that describe these behaviors is especially difficult since droplets often get stuck, or “pinned,” along their contact line where water, air, and surface meet.
To get around this issue, researchers sent their experiment to the International Space Station, asking astronauts to run the tests for them. Without gravity‘s influence squishing drops, the astronauts could use much larger droplets than they could on Earth. Larger drops are less likely to get pinned by a stray surface defect, so on the space station, astronauts could place droplets on a vibrating platform and observe their contact line freely moving as the drop changed shape. Under these conditions, the experiment tested many surfaces with different wetting characteristics, thereby gathering data to test models we cannot easily confirm on Earth. (Image and research credit: J. McCraney et al.; via APS Physics)
Try as we might, humans cannot understand fluid dynamics as birds do. Whether they are primarily flyers or swimmers, birds have an innate understanding of lift and other aerodynamic forces that put the best engineers to shame. Shown here are a subset of winners from the 2022 Bird Photographer of the Year competition, each of them showing off fluid dynamics in some fashion. Hummingbirds hover, droplets shine like diamonds, and divers brace for impact. You can peruse more winner at BPOTY’s website. (Image credits: Various; see alt text of individual images)
So much goes on in our daily lives that we never see. But with the power of the smartphones in our pockets, we can catch more than ever before, as illustrated in this video. Here a researcher uses the standard “slo-mo” (240 fps) video mode on a smartphone to look at the flow from a typical kitchen faucet. Household faucets often have an aerator that adds air bubbles to the flow, something that’s particularly visible in slow motion at high flow rates. What you can see depends on more than just the frame rate, though. Without strong illumination — provided in this case by sunlight — you could easily miss the cloud of droplets ejected by the faucet. (Image and video credit: M. Mungal)
Thunderstorms over the ocean have substantially less lightning than a similar storm over land. Scientists wondered whether this difference could be due to lower cloud bases over the ocean or differences in the cloud droplets’ nuclei. But a new study instead implicates coarse sea spray as the deciding factor. By tracking the full lifetime of storm systems through remote sensing, the team found that fine aerosols can increase lightning activity over both land and ocean. But adding coarse sea salt from sea spray reduced lightning by 90% regardless of fine aerosols. With sea salt in the mix, clouds seem to develop fewer but larger condensation droplets, providing less opportunity for the electrification necessary to generate lightning. (Image credit: Z. Tasi; research credit: Z. Pan et al.)
Sometimes a droplet needs a little protection while it’s traveling to its destination. When that’s the case, we often try to encapsulate it in a layer of material that won’t be affected by whatever environment the drop is traveling through. In this study, researchers aimed to give their drops not one but two layers of protection — in as simple a way as possible.
The team began with three layers of liquid. The lowest layer was water, the middle layer was an oil, and the top layer was a mixture of water and isopropyl alcohol. Next, they added glass particles that were denser than the alcohol, but less dense than the oil. This caused the particles to form a clump — a granular raft — along the interface between the alcohol and the oil (not shown). When the layer of particles became heavy enough, it began to sink into the oil, carrying some of the alcohol with them. This conglomeration formed the initial droplet of alcohol mixture encased in an armor of glass beads.
As this armored droplet sank, it approached the second interface: the oil-water interface. At this juncture, the team observed three different outcomes. When the glass particles were small or light, the armored drop would come to a rest at the oil-water interface. As the drop deformed, water would pierce the armor, causing the whole drop to rupture (Image 1).
In the second case, heavier particles caused the armored drop to sink through the oil-water interface, but a low oil viscosity meant that the oil film drained from the bottom of the drop before the drop was fully encapsulated. Once again, this let the water through and ruptured the droplet (Image 2).
In the final case, armored drops with just the right bead density and oil viscosity would sink through the oil-water interface until the oil pinched off behind the drop. This pinch-off allowed the oil to redistribute around the drop, encapsulating it in layers of both oil and particles, thereby protecting it as it continued its journey (Image 3). (Image credits: top – Girl with red hat, experiment – A. Hooshanginejad et al.; research credit: A. Hooshanginejad et al.)
The sizzle of frying food is familiar to many a cook, and that sound actually conveys a surprising amount of information. In this study, researchers suspended water droplets in hot oil and observed their behavior, both with high-speed video and with microphones. They found that these vaporizing drops created three types of cavities in the oil: an exploding cavity that breaks the surface, an elongated cavity that remains submerged, and an oscillating cavity that breaks up well below the surface. All three cavities flung oil droplets upward, and all three were acoustically distinct from one another. That means, as the authors suggest, that it might be possible to measure the aerosol droplets generated during frying simply by listening! (Image credit: fries – W. Dharma, others – A. Kiyama et al.; research credit: A. Kiyama et al.; via Cosmos; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)
In 2017, the World Meteorological Organization named a new cloud type: the wave-like asperitas cloud. How these rare and distinctive clouds form is still a matter of debate, but this new study suggests that they need conditions similar to those that produce mammatus clouds, plus some added shear.
Using direct numerical simulations, the authors studied a moisture-filled cloud layer sitting above drier ambient air. Without shear, large droplets in this cloud layer slowly settle downward. As the droplets evaporate, they cool the area just below the cloud, changing the density and creating a Rayleigh-Taylor-like instability. This is one proposed mechanism for mammatus clouds, which have bulbous shapes that sink down from the cloud.
When they added shear to the simulation, the authors found that instead of mammatus clouds, they observed asperitas ones. But the amount of shear had to be just right. Too little shear produced mammatus clouds; too much and the shear smeared out the sinking lobes before they could form asperitas waves. (Image credit: A. Beatson; research credit: S. Ravichandran and R. Govindarajan)
Adding dye to a flow is a common technique for visualization. After all, many flows in fluids like air and water are invisible to our bare eyes. But for some classes of flows — especially those driven by variations in surface tension — adding dye can have unforeseen effects. A recent study shows how true this is for bursting Marangoni droplets, where evaporation and alcohol concentration can pull a water-alcohol droplet apart.
Without dye, it’s nearly impossible to see the phenomenon since the refractive indices of the two component liquids are so close. But the researchers found that, as they added more methyl blue dye, it did more than increase the contrast in the flow. It changed the flow, making the droplets larger and creating ligaments between them. They believe that the dye’s own surface tension creates local gradients that alter the flow. It’s a reminder that experimentalists have to be careful to consider how our efforts to measure and observe a flow can change it. (Image credit: top – The Lutetium Project, bottom – C. Seyfert and A. Marin with modification; research credit: C. Seyfert and A. Marin)