Search results for: “waves”

Active Foam
Geometrically, biological tissues and two-dimensional layers of foam share a lot of similarities. To try and understand how active changes in one cell affect neighbors, researchers are studying how foams shift when air is injected (below) at one or more sites. When a foam cell expands, it forces topological changes in neighboring cells, which researchers built an algorithm to track in real-time.
With some processing, they can actually visualize the radially-expanding waves of strain that pass through the foam (bottom image). This allows them to visualize the effects and interaction of multiple injection sites at once, hopefully helping unlock the mechanics behind both the foam’s shifts and those that occur in tissues. (Image and video credit: L. Kroo and M. Prakash)
June 5, 2019
Astrophysical Turbulence
Subsonic turbulence – like the random and chaotic motions of air and water in our everyday lives – is something we have only a limited understanding of. Our knowledge of supersonic turbulence, where shock waves and compressibility rule, is even more tenuous. In part this is because, although we can observe snapshots of supersonic turbulence in astronomical settings like the Orion Nebula shown above, we cannot watch it evolve. On these scales, features simply don’t change appreciably on human timescales.
This has limited scientists to mostly numerical and theoretical studies of supersonic turbulence, but that is starting to change. Researchers are now building experimental set-ups that collide laser-driven plasma jets to generate boundary-free turbulence at Mach 6. Thus far, the observations are consistent with what’s been seen in nature: at low speeds, the turbulence is consistent with Kolmogorov’s theories, with energy cascading from large scales to smaller ones predictably. But as the Mach number increases, the nature of the turbulence shifts, moving toward the large density fluctuations seen in nebulae and other astrophysical realms. (Image credit: F. Battistella; research credit: T. White et al.; see also Nature Astronomy; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)
April 25, 2019
Breaking
As waves fold over and break, they trap air, creating bubbles of many sizes. The smallest of these bubbles can be only a few microns across and persist for long times compared to larger bubbles. When they burst, they create tiny droplets that can carry sea salt up into the atmosphere to seed rain. Understanding how these bubbles form and how many there are of a given size is key to predicting both oceanic and atmospheric behaviors. Numerical simulations like the one featured in the video above reveal the dynamic collisions that create these tiny bubbles and help researchers learn how to model the tiniest bubbles so that future simulations can be faster. (Image and video credit: W. Chan et al.)
April 18, 2019
Resonating on a Bounce
When we think of resonance, we often think of it in simple terms: hit the one right note, and the wine glass will shatter. But resonance isn’t always about a one-to-one ratio between a driving frequency and the resonating system. Especially in fluid dynamics, we often see responses that occur at other, related frequencies.
One of the simplest places to see this is with a droplet bouncing on a bath of fluid. Above you see a liquid metal droplet bouncing on a bath of the same metal. At low amplitude, the pool surface moves at the driving frequency and a droplet bounces simply upon that surface, with one bounce per oscillation. Increase the amplitude, though, and the droplet’s bounce changes. It bounces twice – one large bounce and one small bounce – in the time it takes for the pool surface to go through one cycle. This is called period doubling because the bouncing occurs at twice the driving frequency.
Turn the amplitude up further, and the system undergoes another change. Faraday waves form on the surface. They resonate at half the driving frequency, and a droplet’s bouncing will sync up with the waves. That means the droplet returns to a one-to-one bounce with the waves, but the waves themselves are no longer reacting at the driving frequency. It’s this kind of complexity that makes fluid systems fertile grounds for studying paths toward chaos. (Image and research credit: X. Zhao et al.)
April 17, 2019
Prehistoric Seiche
Sixty-six million years ago, a meteorite impact in modern-day Mexico wiped out the dinosaurs and most other living species of the time. To call the event catastrophic feels like an understatement. At the site of impact, rocks and animals were vaporized. Further away, molten rock condensed into glass beads that form a geological layer found around the world.
Still further away, in what is now North Dakota and was then the bank of a freshwater river, scientists have discovered a deposit full of saltwater fish, sharks, and rays that would have lived in the vast inland sea (A) that stretched northward from Texas. The meteorite’s impact pushed these creatures kilometers upstream against the river’s natural flow.
One possible explanation for the inundation is a tsunami. But geological evidence indicates the deposit took place within 15 minutes to two hours of the impact, when glass beads were still raining down. To travel the 3,000 km from the point of impact would take a tsunami on the order of 18 hours – far too long.
Instead, the deposit is likely the result of a seiche (pronounced “saysh”) – a type of standing wave that occurs in an enclosed or partially enclosed body of water. If you imagine water sloshing in a cup or a tub, that’s essentially what a seiche is, but this was on a much larger scale. (For an example, check out this insane footage of an earthquake-induced seiche in a swimming pool.)
What set the seiche to sloshing are the seismic waves triggered by the meteorite impact. They would have reached this site 6-13 minutes after the impact and triggered waves on the order of 10m. As the waves drove up the riverways, they carried dead and dying sea creatures with them, leaving them stranded on the riverbank until scientists uncovered them tens of millions of years later. (Image and research credit: R. DePalma et al.; via The Conversation; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)
April 9, 2019
Communication Between Microswimmers
The elongated cells of Spirostomum ambiguum swim using hair-like cilia, but when threatened, the cells contract violently, sending out long-range hydrodynamic waves, like those visualized above. Along with these waves, the cells release toxins aimed at whatever predator threatens them. In a colony, these waves act like a communication beacon. The swirl of a previous cell’s reaction tugs on its neighbors. As they contract, the message–and the toxins–spread. If the colony density is high enough, the hydrodynamic trigger waves will propagate through the entire colony, releasing enough toxins to disable even large predators. (Image and video credit: A. Mathijssen et al.)
April 4, 2019
Noisy Jets
One major problem that has plagued supersonic aircraft is their noise. The Concorde – thus far the only supersonic commercial airliner – was plagued with noise complaints that ultimately restricted its usability. Noise reduction is a major area of inquiry in aerospace, and the video below shows one experiment trying to understand the connections between supersonic flow and noise.
Above you see a supersonic, Mach 1.5 microjet emanating from a nozzle at the top of the image. The jet is hitting a flat plate at the bottom of the image. Just beyond nozzle’s exit, you can see the X-shape of shock waves inside the jet. The position of that X is oscillating up and down.
In the background, you can see horizontal light and dark lines traveling up and down. Those horizontal lines in the background are acoustic waves. When they hit the bottom plate, they reflect and travel upward until they hit another surface (outside the picture) and reflect back down. As they travel, they interact with the jet, causing those X-shaped shock waves to move up and down. This coupling between flow and acoustic waves makes the jet much louder – up to 140 dB – than it would be otherwise.
Researchers hope that unraveling the physics of simpler systems like this one will help them quiet more complicated aircraft. (Image and video credit: F. Zigunov et al.)
March 1, 2019
Hydraulic Jumps
Chances are that you’ve seen plenty of hydraulic jumps in your life, whether they were in your kitchen sink, the whitewater of a river, or at the bottom of a spillway. Practical Engineering has a great primer on this oddity of open channel flow.
When water (or other liquids) flow with a surface open to the air – think like a river rather than a pipe – the flow has three important regimes: subcritical, critical, and supercritical. Which state the flow is in depends on the speed of the flow compared to the speed of a wave traveling in that flow. If the waves are faster than the flow, we call it subcritical. If the flow is faster than the waves, it’s called supercritical. (This is equivalent to subsonic or supersonic flow, where the regime depends on the flow speed compared to the speed of sound.)
Flows can transition naturally from one state to another, and where they transition from fast, supercritical flow to slower, subcritical flow, we find hydraulic jumps – places where the kinetic energy of the supercritical flow gets changed into turbulence and potential energy through a change in height. Check out the video above to learn how civil engineers use hydraulic jumps to control water and erosion. (Video and image credit: Practical Engineering)
February 7, 2019
Collective Motion: Nematodes
We often imagine that collective motion creates an advantage – that the schooling fish and flocks of birds gain something from this behavior – but that’s not always the case. Above, you see nematodes moving through a thin liquid layer. Random collisions occasionally bring the nematodes into contact, and once that happens, surface tension holds them together with a force that exceeds what their muscles can supply. Essentially, they move together for the same reason that Cheerios clump together in your cereal bowl. But despite being stuck alongside one another, there’s no change in how the nematode moves. It sees neither an advantage nor a disadvantage from being attached to its neighbor. (Image and research credit: S. Gart et al., source)
This post completes our series on collective motion. Check out the previous posts about honeybee waves, how crowds are like sand, the fluid properties of worms, and why a lack of randomness makes predicting group behaviors hard.

February 1, 2019
Dripping Down the Rivulet
If you’ve ever watched water running down the side of the street, you’ve probably noticed that it doesn’t flow smoothly. Instead, you’ll see waves, rivulets, and disturbances that form. That’s because the simple action of flowing down an incline is unstable. Water and other viscous liquids can’t flow downhill smoothly. Any disturbances – an uneven surface, the rumble of passing cars, a pebble in the way – will create a disruption that grows, often until the entire flow is affected. This video shows some of the complex and beautiful patterns you get then. (Video and image credit: G. Lerisson et al.)
January 18, 2019

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