Fungal spores sketch out minute air currents in this shortlisted photograph by Avilash Ghosh. The moth atop a mushroom appears to admire the celestial view. In the largely still air near the forest floor, mushrooms use evaporation and buoyancy to generate air flows capable of lifting their spores high enough to catch a stray breeze. (Image credit: A. Ghosh/CUPOTY; via Colossal)
Tag: biology

Flushing the Brain During Sleep
When we sleep, our brains flush out waste that builds up during our waking hours, but how this happens has been something of a mystery. A new study of sleeping mice has visualized and tracked the flow for the first time. The researchers found that, during a specific sleep phase (the non-rapid eye movement portion), the mice released pulses of norepinephrine — a cousin to adrenaline — that periodically contracted blood vessels in the rodents’ brains. As these blood vessels contract and relax, it forces the nearby cerebrospinal fluid to flow. In short, the pulsing of the blood vessels pumps the fluid bathing the brain, flushing it.
The team also found that certain medications — like the sleep aid Ambien — disrupted this flow in mice by suppressing the blood vessels’ oscillations. It’s not known yet whether our brains operate on the same pumping principle or whether medications could affect that, but it does suggest that a similar study in humans is worthwhile. (Image credit: K. Howard; research credit: N. Hauglund et al.; via Science)

A Pitcher Plant’s Rain-Triggered Trap
Pitcher plants all use slippery rims and sticky digestive juices to capture and trap their insect prey. But two species of pitcher plant independently evolved an extra trap: a rain-activated springboard lid. Both the Seychelles pitcher plant and the slender pitcher plant — separated geographically by 6000 kilometers — have a springy, near-horizontal “lid” that sticks out over their pitcher. The underside of the surface is slippery, though less so than the pitcher’s lip and walls. Unsuspecting ants crawl under the lid, confident that they can keep their footing, and then — bang — a rain drop hits the springboard. That impact catapults the insect directly into the drink. There’s no escaping now.
How did two widely separated, independently evolving plants both settle on this technique? Scientists think it was random chance. Pitcher plants are highly variable in their pitcher size, shape, and features. The scientists suggest that by trying lots of random combinations, these two species hit upon a particular arrangement that works really well for them. (Video and image credit: Science)

Mapping the Oceans With Seals
Elephant seals are harbingers — canaries in the coal mine — for climate change. A long-running experiment tracks northern elephant seal populations using a combination of sensor tags and field measurements. With the miniaturization of sensors, a tagged seal can provide a wealth of data for scientists: foraging paths, temperature and salinity data, behavioral patterns, ecological data, and even information on the species around the seal. This video delves into this treasure trove, explaining how and what we’re learning from this species, especially as they navigate our changing climate. (Video and image credit: Science)

Swimming Like a Ray
Manta rays are amazing and efficient swimmers — a necessity for any large animal that survives on tiny plankton. Researchers have built a new soft robot inspired by swimming mantas. Like its biological inspiration, the robot flaps its pectoral fins much as bird flaps its wings; this motion creates vortices that push water behind the robot, propelling it forward. For a downstroke, air inflates the robot’s body cavity, pushing the fins downward. When that air is released, its fins snap back up. With this simple and energy efficient stroke, researchers are able to control the robot’s swimming speed and depth, allowing it to maneuver around obstacles. Flapping faster helps the robot surface, and slower flapping allows it to sink. (Living manta rays also sink if they slow down.) Check out the robot in action below. (Image credit: J. Lanoy; video and research credit: H. Qing et al.; via Ars Technica)

Strata of Starlings
Starlings come together in groups of up to thousands of birds for the protection of numbers. These flocks form spellbinding, undulating masses known as murmurations, where the movement of individual starlings sends waves spreading from neighbor to neighbor through the group. One bird’s effort to dodge a hawk triggers a giant, spreading ripple in the flock.
To capture the flowing nature of the murmuration, photographer and scientist Kathryn Cooper layers multiple images of the starlings atop one another. The birds themselves become pathlines marking the murmuration’s motion. The final images are surprisingly varied in form. Some flocks resemble a downpour of rain; others the dangling branches of a tree. (Image credit: K. Cooper; via Colossal)

“Flowing Kelp”
This CUPOTY-shortlisted photo by Sigfrido Zimmerman shows giant kelp drifting in the current. At the base of each blade is an inflated bladder that helps keep the algae buoyant. The blades themselves are furrowed on their surface, with patterns reminiscent of sand ripples. Though giant kelp can grow to as large as 60 meters, the species lives in constant flux, pushed and pulled by the currents that run along its length. (Image credit: S. Zimmerman/CUPOTY; via Colossal)

Holding Steady
Before a mammalian cell divides, the spindle — a protein structure — divides the cell’s genetic material in two. As it does, the cytoplasm inside the cell forms a toroidal flow (below, left). Researchers wondered how the spindle manages to stay in place with this flow; the spindle sits just where the flow diverges, a spot that seems ripe for unstable shifts in position. But, contrary to expectations, their analysis showed that — although a smaller spindle would be unstable in that spot — the protein spindle is large enough that its size distorts the cell’s flow and creates a pressure that moves it back into place if it shifts. (Image credit: top – ColiN00B, illustration – W. Liao and E. Lauga; research credit: W. Liao and E. Lauga; via APS Physics)

Left: illustration of the toroidal flow near the spindle (purple) in a cell. Right: schematic of flow near the spindle’s fixed point. 
Tar Pit, Sweet Tar Pit
The La Brea Tar Pits have delivered countless creatures to their doom over tens of thousands of years. But the sticky quagmire of the pits’ natural asphalt is a comfy home to at least one animal: the petroleum fly. The fly’s maggots secrete a lipophobic — in other words, oil-repelling — fluid that allows them to move freely through the viscous black tar. That freedom means they can take full advantage of the asphalt’s trapping power by consuming a smorgasbord of stuck victims. Any asphalt the maggots swallow just passes harmlessly through them. As adults, only their feet are asphalt-resistant, but the petroleum fly still spends most its time hanging out in the pit, seeding the next generation. (Video and image credit: Deep Look)

Dry Plants Warn Away Moths
Drought-stressed plants let out ultrasonic distress cries that moths use to avoid plants that can’t support their offspring. In ideal circumstances, a plant is constantly pulling water up from the soil, through its roots, and out its leaves through transpiration. This creates a strong negative pressure — varying from 2 to 17 atmospheres’ worth — inside the plant’s xylem. If there’s not enough water to keep the plant’s inner flow going, cavitation occurs — essentially a tiny vacuum bubble opens in the xylem. That cavitation isn’t silent; it creates a click at ultrasonic frequencies above human hearing. But just because we don’t hear it doesn’t mean that sound goes unheard.
In fact, recent research suggests that, not only do moths hear the plant’s cavitation cries, female moths will avoid laying eggs on a healthy plant that sounds like it’s cavitating. Evolutionarily, this makes sense. Hatchlings rely on their birth plant for food and habitat; if an adult moth picks a dying, drought-stressed plant, its offspring won’t survive. It pays to be sensitive to the plant’s signs of distress. (Image credit: Khalil; research credit: R. Seltzer et al.; via NYTimes)



























