When soap bubbles burst, the hole grows as an expanding circle. But not every fluid bursts this same way. Here, researchers let air rise through oobleck–a fluid made from cornstarch suspended in water–to form a bubble. In time, as with all bubbles, the oobleck bubble bursts. But–in keeping with oobleck’s solid-like properties–the film tears open and fractures. As it sinks back into the liquid, it wrinkles before it slowly relaxes back into fluid form. (Video and image credit: X. Zhang et al.)
When air bubbles rise through a liquid, they scavenge dust, viruses, microplastics, and other impurities as they go. Once at the surface, these contaminant-covered bubbles thin and burst, generating many tiny droplets that arc through the air above. You’re likely familiar with the sight and sensation from a glass of champagne or soda.
Here, researchers have stacked two sets of sequential images to illustrate this complicated flowscape. Under the surface, a trio of photos are stacked to show bubbles rising and gathering at the surface. In the air, the researchers have stacked thirty sequential images, which together trace out the parabolic arcs of droplets sprayed by the bursting bubbles. (Image credit: J. Do and B. Wang)
If you fill a test tube with water and drop it, the impact causes a pressure wave that travels up from the bottom and creates a focused jet (left). If the impact is strong enough, cavitation bubbles form at the bottom and generate a sheet-like jet around the central one, like a crown (center and right). (Image credit: H. Watanabe et al.)
Convection isn’t always driven by temperature. Here, researchers explore the convective patterns formed by Thiovulum bacteria. These bacteria are negatively buoyant, meaning they will sink if they aren’t swimming. They also have an asymmetric moment of inertia, so any flow moving past them tends to affect their swimming direction.
When let loose in a Hele-Shaw cell with a oxygen levels that decrease with depth, the bacteria create complex convection-like patterns. They swim slowly upward in wide, slow plumes and sink in denser, narrow plumes. In other areas, they form large-scale rotating vortices. (Video and image credit: O. Kodio et al.)
When bubbles form atop the ocean or in our cups, they typically live short lives. Although the bubble can exchange fluid with the pool below, this only happens at the foot of the bubble cap. There, thinner patches form and, due to their buoyancy, rise up along the bubble’s surface. Over time, these lighter, thinner patches reduce the amount of fluid in the cap–causing the bubble to thin and eventually burst.
Here, researchers show that thinning–visible in the dark blue plumes rising up the bubble cap–when there’s no turbulence in the surrounding air. But as turbulence outside the bubble increases, the thinner patches stretch and deform across the cap. In the image series, turbulence increases moving from top to bottom. (Image credit: T. Aurégan and L. Deike)
To help reduce greenhouse emissions, businesses are exploring systems that reduce a container ship’s drag by releasing bubbles beneath them. But how do bubbles reduce drag? To find out, researchers simulated a bubbly flow that mimics the underside of a moving ship. By playing with the balance between inertial forces, buoyancy, and surface tension, they were able to sweep through conditions that the bubbles could experience.
The best performance comes when bubbles stick together and coat the entire underside of the surface. In that case, they measured a nearly 40% reduction in the drag. But other conditions were not so fortuitous; in fact, with poorly chosen conditions, adding bubbles could actually increase the drag. (Video and image credit: S. Di Georgio et al.)
Over the last 15 years or so, researchers have been exploring pilot-wave theory–originally proposed by De Broglie in the 1920s as a way to understand quantum mechanics–using hydrodynamic quantum analogs. In these experiments, researchers vibrate pools of silicone oil, which allows oil drops to bounce–and in some conditions, walk–indefinitely on the pool. By mixing in obstacles that mimic classic quantum mechanical experiments, they reproduce effects like the double-slit experiment in a macroscopic system.
In this video and the accompanying papers, a team recreates the Kapitsa-Dirac effect where a standing electromagnetic wave diffracts electrons. Here, the standing wave is instead a Faraday wave in the surface of the pool. Yet the droplets, too, diffract in a manner resembling the quantum version. (Video credit: B. Primkulov et al.; research credit: B. Primkulov et al. 1, 2)
A ring of hydrogen bubbles rises, rotating clockwise, in this video of electrolysis. But there are no fan blades to cause this swirl, so why do the bubbles rotate? The answer is a Lorentz force induced by the electromagnetic set-up of the experiment. Watch to see how researchers manipulate the Lorentz force to affect the flow. (Video and image credit: Y. Cho et al.)
Cepheid variable stars pulsate in brightness over regular periods. That’s one reason astronomers use them as a standard candle to judge distances–even for stars well outside our galaxy. In this image, researchers display a simulation of convection inside a Cepheid eight times more massive than our sun. The colors represent vorticity, with zero vorticity in white.(Image credit: M. Stuck and J. Pratt)
How can you break water? By accelerating it so quickly that the pressure drop forms cavitation bubbles. Here, a steel piston rests against a transparent plate, all underwater. When a hammer strike accelerates the piston away at around 1000g, the severe pressure drop tears the water into bubbles (bottom, left). As the bubbles expand, the nearby piston squishes them into pancakes (bottom, center). As they continue growing, the bubbles press into one another, squeezing thin ridges of water between them. The result (center) resembles broken glass. (Image credit: J. da Silva et al.)
