Every time I fill a glass at my refrigerator, I watch how the falling jet creates a cloud of bubbles. The bubbles form when the impacting water jet pulls air in with it, though, as this video shows, the exact origins can vary. Here, researchers take a closer, slowed-down look at the situation; they connect disturbances in the jet and waves at its base to the entrained bubbles that form. (Video and image credit: S. Relph and K. Kiger)
It’s difficult at times to fathom the scale and power of fluid dynamics beyond our day-to-day lives. Here, twists of the Sun‘s magnetic field propel a jet of plasma more than 500,000 kilometers out from its surface in an enormous solar prominence eruption. To give you a sense of scale for this random solar burp, that’s bigger than ten times the distance to satellites in geostationary orbit. (Image credit: P. Chou; via Colossal)
Espresso has some pretty cool physics. But it’s also just lovely to watch in slow motion. This video offers a look at the making of an espresso shot at 120 frames per second (though you can also enjoy a 1000 fps version here). Watching the film form, expand, and break up at the beginning and end of the video is my favorite, but watching how the occasional solid coffee grains make their way into and down the central jet is really interesting also. (Video and image credit: YouTube/skunkay; via Open Culture)
When bubbles at the surface of the ocean pop, they can send up a spray of tiny droplets that carry salt, biomass, microplastics, and other contaminants into the atmosphere. Teratons of such materials enter the atmosphere from the ocean each year. To better understand how contaminants can cross from the ocean to the atmosphere, researchers studied what happens when a oil-coated water bubble pops.
The team looked at bubbles about 2 millimeters across, coated in varying amounts of oil, and observed their demise via high-speed video. When the bubble pops, capillary waves ripple down into its crater-like cavity and meet at the bottom. That collision creates a rebounding Worthington jet, like the one above, which can eject droplets from its tip.
The team found that the oil layer’s thickness affected the capillary waves and changed the width of the resulting jet. They were able to build a mathematical model that predicts how wide a jet will be, though a prediction of the jet’s velocity is still a work-in-progress. (Image credit: ะ . ะะพัะพะทะพะฒ; research credit: Z. Yang et al.; via APS)
What happens to a droplet hanging on a wire when the wire gets plucked? That’s the fundamental question behind this video, which shows the effects of wire speed, viscosity, and viscoelasticity on a drop’s detachment. With lovely high-speed video and close-up views, you get to appreciate even subtle differences between each drop. Capillary waves, viscoelastic waves, and Plateau-Rayleigh instabilities abound! (Video and image credit: D. Maity et al.)
Although often associated with applause, hand clapping is more universal than that. The distinctive sound can mark rhythms, draw attention, and even test the surrounding acoustics. But how exactly does hand clapping work? A recent study shows that the acoustics of hand clapping come from more than just the collision of hands. Especially in a cupped configuration, clapping hands act like a Helmholtz resonator (think blowing across a bottle top), producing a resonant jet that squeezes out between the forefinger and thumb of the impacted hand. Check out the images above to see how that jet appears in various clapping configurations. (Image and research credit: Y. Fu et al.; via Physics Today)
The Mฤori people of Aotearoa New Zealand compete in manu jumping to create the biggest splash. Here’s a fun example. In this video, researchers break down the physics of the move and how it creates an enormous splash. There are two main components — the V-shaped tuck and the underwater motion. At impact, jumpers use a relatively tight V-shape; the researchers found that a 45-degree angle works well at high impact speeds. This initiates the jumper’s cavity. Then, as they descend, the jumper unfolds, using their upper body to tear open a larger underwater cavity, which increases the size of the rebounding jet that forms the splash. To really maximize the splash, jumpers can aim to have their cavity pinch-off (or close) as deep underwater as possible. (Video and image credit: P. Rohilla et al.)
As magma approaches the surface, it forces its way through new and existing fractures in the crust, forming dikes. When a volcano finally erupts, the magma’s viscosity is a major factor in just how explosive and dangerous the eruption will be, but a new study shows that what we see from the surface is a poor predictor of how magma actually flows within the dike.
Researchers built their own artificial dike using a clear elastic gelatin, which they injected water and shear-thinning magma-mimics into. By tracking particles in the liquids, they could observe how each liquid followed on its way to the surface. All of the liquids formed similar-looking dikes at a similar speed, but within the dike, the liquids flowed very differently. Water cut a central jet through the gelatin, then showed areas of recirculation along the outer edges. In contrast, the shear-thinning liquids — which are likely more representative of actual magma — showed no recirculation. Instead, they flowed through the dike in a smooth, fan-like shape.
The team cautions that surface-level observations of developing magma dikes provide little information on the flow going on underneath. Instead, their results suggest that volcanologists modeling magma underground should take care to include the magma’s shear-thinning to properly capture the flow. (Image credit: T. Grypachevska; research credit: J. Kavanagh et al.; via Eos)
Fluids labs are filled with many a coffee drinker, and even those (like me) who don’t enjoy coffee, can find plenty of fascinating physics in their labmates’ mugs. Espresso has received the lion’s share of the research in recent years, but a new study looks at the unique characteristics of a pour-over coffee. In this technique, coffee grounds sit in a conical filter and a stream of hot water pours over the top of the grounds. Researchers found that the ideal pour creates a powerful mixing environment in a coffee-studded water layer that sits above a V-shaped bed of grains created by the falling water jet.
The best mixing, they find, requires a pour height no greater than 50 centimeters (to prevent the jet from breaking into drops) but with enough height that the falling jet stirs up the grounds. You also want to pour slowly enough to give plenty of time for mixing, without letting the jet stick to the kettle’s spout, which (again) causes the jet to break up.
That ideal pour extracts more coffee flavor from the grounds, allowing you to get the same strength of brew from fewer beans. As climate change makes coffee harder to grow, coffee drinkers will want every trick to stretch their supply. (Image credit: S. Satora; research credit: E. Park et al.; via Ars Technica)
The Mozambique Channel boasts some of the world’s most turbulent waters, driven by eddies hundreds of kilometers wide. Eddies of this size — known as mesoscale — determine regional flows that influence local biodiversity, sediment mixing, and how plastic pollution moves. To better understand the region, scientists measured a mesoscale dipole from a research vessel.
The dipole consisted of a large anticyclonic ring (shown in dark blue) that rotated counterclockwise and a smaller cyclonic eddy (shown in green) that rotated clockwise. Between these eddies lay a central jet moving up to 130 centimeters per second that drew material out from the shoreline. In the anticyclonic ring, researchers found largely uniform waters with little chlorophyll. The cyclonic eddy, in contrast, was high in chlorophyll and had large variations in salinity. Those smaller-scale variations, they found, helped to drive vertical motions of up to 40 meters per day.
In situ measurements like these help scientists understand how energy flows through different scales in the ocean and how that energy helps transport nutrients, sediment, and pollution regionally. Such measurements also help us to refine ocean models that enable us to predict this transport and how regions will change as climate patterns shift. (Image credit: ship – A. Lamielle/Wikimedia Commons, eddies – P. Penven et al.; research credit: P. Penven et al.; via Eos)