Once a breeze kicks up, leaves on a tree start dancing. Every tree’s leaves have their own shapes, some of which appear very different from other trees. But their dances have patterns, as this video shows. In it, researchers explore how leaves of different shapes deform in the wind and how they can decompose that motion to compare across leaves. (Video and image credit: K. Mulleners et al.; via GFM)
Today’s video shows red blood cells flowing through a capillary network in a rat’s skeletal muscle. At this resolution, our eyes can follow the paths of individual red blood cells squeezing through each capillary, as well as the faster blur of thicker capillaries where many cells can pass at once. Watching videos like this is a great way to build intuition for particle image velocimetry, streaklines, and other flow visualization methods as our brains can readily recognize where the cells are moving fast and where they are slower. (Video and image credit: Dr. G. McEvoy et al.; via Colossal)
In the next video of his current collection, Roman De Giuli takes us flying over liquid landscapes that look like our Earth in miniature. Many of them have the feeling of river deltas or glaciers. Sharp-eyed viewers will notice bubbles and flotsam in some of these streams. If you follow them, you can see how the flows vary — wiggling around islands, speeding up through constrictions and slowing down when the stream widens. It is, as always, a beautiful form of flow visualization. (Video and image credit: R. De Giuli)
Flamingos are unequivocally odd-looking birds with their long skinny legs, sinuous necks, and bent L-shaped beaks. They are filter-feeders, but a new study shows that they are far from passive wanderers looking for easy prey in shallow waters. Instead, flamingos are active hunters, using fluid dynamics to draw out and trap the quick-moving invertebrates they feed on. In today’s post, I’ll focus on how flamingos use their heads and beaks; next time, we’ll take a look at what they do with their feet.
Feeding flamingos often bob their heads out of the water. This, it turns out, is not indecision, but a strategy. Lifting its flat upper forebeak from near the bottom of a pool creates suction. That suction creates a tornado-like vortex that helps draw food particles and prey from the muddy sediment.
When feeding, flamingos will also open and close their mandibles about 12 times a second in a behavior known as chattering. This movement, as seen in the video above, creates a flow that draws particles — and even active swimmers! — toward its beak at about seven centimeters a second.
Staying near the surface won’t keep prey safe from flamingos, either. In slow-flowing water, the birds will set the upper surface of their forebeak on the water, tip pointed downstream. This seems counterintuitive, until you see flow visualization around the bird’s head, as above. Von Karman vortices stream off the flamingo’s head, which creates a slow-moving recirculation zone right by the tip of the bird’s beak. Brine shrimp eggs get caught in these zones, delivering themselves right to the flamingo’s mouth.
Clearly, the flamingo is a pretty sophisticated hunter! It’s actively drawing out and trapping prey with clever fluid dynamics. Tomorrow we’ll take a look at some of its other tricks. (Image credit: top – G. Cessati, others – V. Ortega-Jimenez et al.; research credit: V. Ortega-Jimenez et al.; submitted by Soh KY)
A drone’s noisiness is one of its major downfalls. Standard drones are obnoxiously loud and disruptive for both humans and animals, one reason that they’re not allowed in many places. This flow visualization, courtesy of the Slow Mo Guys, helps show why. The image above shows a standard off-the-shelf drone rotor. As each blade passes through the smoke, it sheds a wingtip vortex. (Note that these vortices are constantly coming off the blade, but we only see them where they intersect with the smoke.) As the blades go by, a constant stream of regularly-spaced vortices marches downstream of the rotor. This regular spacing creates the dominant acoustic frequency that we hear from the drone.
To counter that, the company Wing uses a rotor with blades of different lengths (bottom image). This staggers the location of the shed vortices and causes some later vortices to spin up with their downstream neighbor. These interactions break up that regular spacing that generates the drone’s dominant acoustic frequency. Overall, that makes the drone sound quieter, likely without a large impact to the amount of lift it creates. (Image credit: The Slow Mo Guys)
Captured in March 2024, this satellite image of the Gulf of Oman comes from an instrument aboard the PACE spacecraft. The picture of a phytoplankton bloom is not quite natural-color, at least not as our eyes would see it. Instead, engineers combined data taken from multiple wavelengths and adjusted it to bring out the fine details. It’s not what we’d see by eye, but every feature you see here is real.
Traditionally, the only way to identify the species of a phytoplankton bloom like this one is by taking a sample directly. But PACE’s instruments can detect hundreds of wavelengths of light, offering enough color detail that scientists may soon be able to identify and track phytoplankton species by satellite image alone. I wonder if distinguishing species could also provide some quantitative flow visualization from a series of these images. In the meantime, at least we can enjoy the view! (Image credit: J. Knuble; via NASA Earth Observatory)
In graduate school, my advisor introduced us to a particularly vexing fluid dynamical thought experiment known as the Feynman sprinkler. After observing an S-shaped sprinkler that rotated when water shot out its arms, physicist Richard Feynman wondered what would happen if the device were placed in a tank of water with the flow reversed. If the sprinkler was sucking in water, would it rotate and, if so, in what direction?
This seemingly simple question has confounded physicists ever since, in part because you can make believable arguments for multiple different results. Attempts to build the apparatus experimentally produced differing results, too — often due to variables that don’t appear in the thought experiment, like friction in the sprinkler’s bearing. But, at long last, a group posits they have the final answer to the problem.
They cleverly built their sprinkler so that it floats in its tank, with the addition or removal of water from the sprinkler controlled by a second siphon-connected tank. With no solid-solid contacts, the sprinkler can rotate with very little friction.
The team found that sucking water into the sprinkler does, indeed, reverse the sprinkler’s rotation, but it’s not a simple reversal of the forward sprinkler’s flow. To see why, check out the video above, which visualizes flow inside the sprinkler during suction. For clarity, the device is held fixed in place during flow visualization. Notice that the two arms of the sprinkler sit directly opposite one another in the hub. Thus, you’d expect their two jets to collide and form counter-rotating vortices along a vertical axis. But the vortex pairs are offset from the centerline.
This asymmetry takes place because the velocity profiles of flow across the hub inlets are skewed. Instead of the largest velocity occurring on the centerline of the inlet, each occurs slightly to one side. So when the jets collide, they do so off-center and impart a torque to the sprinkler. The reason for the skewed profiles at the inlets lies further upstream in the curved arms of the sprinkler. Centrifugal force from turning the corner leaves a mark on the flow, leading, ultimately, to the skewed velocity profiles, offset jets, and spinning sprinkler. (Image and research credit: K. Wang et al.; via APS Physics)
Colorful chandeliers, passing spirits, sprouting mushrooms, and fountains of falling ink appear in Christopher Dormoy’s “Aquakosmos.” Driven by the slight density difference between ink and water, many of these elaborate shapes result from the Rayleigh-Taylor instability. Anytime you see mushroom-like plumes and chandelier-like splitting vortex rings, there’s probably a Rayleigh-Taylor instability behind it. Check out the full video above, and, if you want to give this kind of flow visualization a try yourself, a glass of water and vial of food coloring is a great place to start. (Video and image credit: C. Dormoy)
Flow visualization is an important tool in fluid dynamics, and scientists have many ways to capture and visualize flow information. But our methods are not the only — or even the best — ways to express a flow. Here, engineers teamed up with architects and artists to explore the flow behind an oscillating cylinder. When free to move forward-and-backward the cylinder’s wake takes on three distinctively forms. The team explored many ways to display the wakes — drawings, 3D-printed sculptures, and more — before ultimately building an art installation that lets visitors walk through the wake to experience it. I love the creativity of these interdisciplinary efforts. To see a similar, yet very different, take on the wake of a cylinder, check out this interpretative dance. (Image and video credit: P. Boersma et al.)
Many wings in nature are not rigid. Instead they flex and curve with the flow. Here researchers imitate that phenomenon with BILLY (Bio-Inspired Lightweight and Limber wing prototYpe). Using an evolutionary-style algorithm, BILLY determines its own optimal flapping characteristics to maximize performance. Its flexible membrane-style wing actually performs better than a rigid wing! Check out the end of the video for some flow visualization of the leading edge vortex. (Image and video credit: A. Gehrke et al.)