On occasion in the late fall and early winter, the Grand Canyon can fill with clouds of fog. This occurs when a layer of warm air traps cold, moist air inside the canyon, creating what’s known as a temperature inversion. The trapped air’s moisture condenses into fog, creating the appearance of a cloud sea lapping at the canyon walls. Such inversions often proceed a big snowstorm, as shown in this video. (Video and image credit: H. Mehmedinovic / SKYGLOWPROJECT; via Gizmodo)
A wall of lava lamps in a San Francisco office currently helps keep about 10% of the Internet’s traffic secure. Internet security company Cloudflare uses a video feed of the lava lamps as one of the inputs to the algorithms they use to generate large random numbers for encryption. The concept dates back to a 1996 patent for a product called LavaRand. The idea is that using a chaotic, unpredictable source as a seed for random number generators makes it much harder for an adversary to crack your encryption.
With lava lamps, a lot of that chaos comes from the fluid dynamics involved – without perfect knowledge of thousands of variables, it would be impossible to simulate the lava lamp wall and get the same outcome as the real one – but there’s also randomness that comes from the measurement. People walking by, shifts in lighting, and random fluctuations of individual pixels all help make the video feed unpredictable. For those interested in the details of how Cloudflare uses their lava lamps, the company explains things for both technical and non-technical readers. You can also check out Tom Scott’s video for a good overview. (Image and video credit: T. Scott; submitted by Jean H.)
At first glance, this image looks much like the impact of any drop on a pool of the same liquid, but that’s not what you’re seeing. This is the impact of a water droplet on a thin film of oil, and the immiscibility of those two fluids has important effects on the collision. When the water drop impacts, it spreads and forms a compound crown that rises out of the fluid. Eventually, that momentum runs out and the crown falls into the liquid.
Water’s intermolecular forces are strong enough to pull the remains of the droplet back in on itself. As that fluid collides at the center, it gets forced up into a central jet with enough energy to eject a droplet or two at its tip. Even though this looks like a Worthington jet, it’s not. Worthington jets form after the collapse of a cavity in the impacted liquid – in other words, they form on pools, not on films. Despite the visual similarity, this central jet is formed entirely differently! (Image and research credit: Z. Che and O. Matar, source; submitted by O. Matar)
Condensation, which removes heat by changing a vapor into a liquid, is a common feature in industrial heat transfer. When droplets form on surfaces, they typically have to grow to millimeter size before gravity causes them to slide off and open up the surface to new droplet formation. Hydrophobic surfaces can shed droplets a little sooner. Droplets only 100 micrometers in size will spontaneously jump off hydrophobic surfaces due to the release of excess surface energy during droplet coalescence, but this only happens when those droplets have a small contact area with the surface. Defects in the nanoscale structure of the surface can allow water to squeeze in between posts and hold on.
To counter this, new experiments packed copper nanowires into a dense 3D array. This permits fewer defects and helps condensing droplets leap from the surface sooner. Each droplet carries away a bit of the surface’s heat. The new method is impressively efficient at it. Researchers found the new heat exchanger could remove 100% more heat than previous hydrophobic designs. (Video credit: Science; research credit: R. Wen et al.)
Hot exhaust gases churn in the wake of this climbing B-1B Lancer. The high temperature of the exhaust changes the density and, thus, the refractive index of the gases relative to the atmosphere. Light traveling through the exhaust gets distorted, making the highly turbulent flow visible to the human eye. Note how the four individual engine exhaust plumes quickly combine into one indistinguishable wake. This is typical for turbulence; it’s hard to track where any given fluctuations originally came from. The airplane’s wingtip vortices are just visible as well, if you look closely. (Image credit: T. Rogoway; submitted by Mark S.)
This is the final post in a collaborative series with FYP on pilot-wave hydrodynamics. Previous posts: 1) Introduction; 2) Chladni patterns; 3) Faraday instability; 4) Walking droplets; 5) Droplet lattices; 6) Quantum double-slit experiments; 7) Hydro single- and double-slit experiments; 8) Quantum tunneling; 9) Hydrodynamic tunneling; 10) de Broglie’s pilot-wave theory
Thanks for joining us this week as we explored nearly two centuries’ worth of scientific discoveries around vibration, fluid dynamics, and quantum mechanics. For those who’d like to learn more about these and related topics, we’ve compiled some helpful resources below.
Other Videos, Articles, and Resources by Topic
Chladni Patterns
Faraday Instability
Quantum Mechanics
Pilot-wave Hydrodynamics
Selected (Academic) Bibliography by Topic
Articles marked with an asterisk (*) are recommended for their approachability and/or broad overview of the subject.
Chladni Patterns
Faraday Instability
Pilot-wave Hydrodynamics
(Image credit: A. Labuda and J. Belina)
This post is part of a collaborative series with FYP on pilot-wave hydrodynamics. Previous posts: 1) Introduction; 2) Chladni patterns; 3) Faraday instability; 4) Walking droplets; 5) Droplet lattices; 6) Quantum double-slit experiments; 7) Hydro single- and double-slit experiments; 8) Quantum tunneling
Quantum tunneling is a strange subatomic behavior that was first described to explain how alpha particles escape a nucleus during radioactive decay. Classically, a particle trapped in a well can only escape if its energy is sufficiently high, but in quantum mechanics, even a particle with lower-than-necessary energy can occasionally “tunnel” out.
To test whether hydrodynamic walkers can tunnel, researchers built corrals. In the central region, the pool on which the walker moves is relatively deep. Over the walls, the pool is much shallower. In this shallow area, the wave from the droplet’s bouncing decays quickly, creating a partially reflective barrier. For most collisions, the walker reflects off the barrier. Other times, apparently at random, a collision results in the walker crossing the wall and tunneling out of its well.
Over many experiments, researchers were able to construct a probabilistic view of walker tunneling. In quantum mechanics, a particle’s likelihood of tunneling out of a well depends on the particle’s energy and the well’s thickness. The analogs for a walker are velocity and barrier thickness. The thicker the barrier, the harder it is for a walker to tunnel through. Conversely, a faster walker has a higher probability of tunneling through a barrier of a given thickness. As the authors themselves observe:
“Although our experiment is foreign to the quantum world, the similarity of the observed behaviors is intriguing.” #
As we wrap up our series tomorrow, we’ll consider some of those similarities more deeply.
(Image credits: A. Eddi et al., sources)
This post is part of a collaborative series with FYP on pilot-wave hydrodynamics. Previous entries: 1) Introduction; 2) Chladni patterns; 3) Faraday instability; 4) Walking droplets; 5) Droplet lattices; 6) Quantum double-slit experiments
In quantum mechanics, the single and double-slit experiments are foundational. They demonstrate that light and elementary particles like electrons have wave-like and particle-like properties, both of which are necessary to explain the behaviors observed. Similarly, a hydrodynamic walker consists of both a particle and a wave, so, perhaps unsurprisingly, researchers tested them in both single-slit and double-slit experiments.
When a walker passes through a single-slit (top row), it’s deflected in a seemingly random direction due to its waves interacting with the slit. But if you watch enough walkers traverse the slit, you can put together a statistical representation of where the walker will get deflected. Compare that with the results for a series of photons passing through a slit one-at-a-time, and you’ll see a remarkable match-up.
If you test the walker instead with two slits, the droplet can only pass through one slit, but its accompanying wave passes through both (bottom row). Let enough walkers through the system one-by-one, and they, like their photonic cousins, build up interference fringes that match the quantum experiment. Diffraction and interference are only a couple of the walkers’ tricks, however. In the next posts, we’ll take a look at another analog to quantum behavior: tunneling.
(Image and research credits: Couder et al., source, selected papers 1, 2; images courtesy of E. Fort)
This post is a collaborative series with FYP on pilot-wave hydrodynamics. Previous entries: 1) Introduction; 2) Chladni patterns; 3) Faraday instability
If you place a small droplet atop a vibrating pool, it will happily bounce like a kid on a trampoline. On the surface, this seems quite counterintuitive: why doesn’t the droplet coalesce with the pool? The answer: there’s a thin layer of air trapped between the droplet and the pool. If that air were squeezed out, the droplet would coalesce. But it takes a finite amount of time to drain that air layer away, even with the weight of the droplet bearing down on it. Before that drainage can happen, the vibration of the pool sends the droplet aloft again, refreshing the air layer beneath it. The droplet falls, gets caught on its air cushion, and then sent bouncing again before the air can squeeze out. If nothing disturbs the droplet, it can bounce almost indefinitely.
Droplets don’t always bounce in place, though. When forced with the right frequency and acceleration, a bouncing droplet can transition to walking. In this state, the droplet falls and strikes the pool such that it interacts with the ripple from its previous bounce. That sends the droplet aloft again but with a horizontal velocity component in addition to its vertical one. In this state, the droplet can wander about its container in a way that depends on its history or “memory” in the form of waves from its previous bounces. And this is where things start to get a bit weird – as in quantum weirdness – because now our walker consists of both a particle (droplet) and wave (ripples). The similarities between quantum behaviors and the walking droplets, the collective behavior of which is commonly referred to as “pilot-wave hydrodynamics,” are rather remarkable. In the next couple posts, we’ll take a look at some important quantum mechanical experiments and their hydrodynamic counterparts.
(Image credit: D. Harris et al., source)
This post is part of a collaborative series with FYP on pilot-wave hydrodynamics. Previous entries: 1) Introduction; 2) Chladni patterns
In 1831, in an appendix to a paper on Chladni plate patterns, physicist Michael Faraday wrote:
“When the upper surface of a plate vibrating so as to produce sound is covered with a layer of water, the water usually presents a beautifully crispated appearance in the neighborhood of the centres of vibration.” #
Faraday was not the first to notice this, as he himself acknowledged, but it was his many clever observations and tests of the phenomenon that led to its naming as the Faraday instability. Like Chladni patterns, Faraday waves can take many forms, depending on the geometry of the vibrator and the frequency and amplitude of its vibration.
Beneath the “crispations” at the air interface, the liquid inside the pool is also moving, driven by the vibrations into streaming patterns. Sprinkling particles into this flow reveals discrete recirculation zones that depend on the vibrations’ characteristics, as seen above. This behavior can even be used to assemble particles into distinct formations.
When the vibrations are large enough at resonant frequencies, the rippling waves at the surface become violent enough to start ejecting droplets. You can experience this for yourself using a Chinese spouting bowl or a Tibetan singing bowl with some water. It’s also, bizarrely enough, a factor in alligator mating behaviors!
Next time, we’ll explore what happens to a droplet atop a Faraday wave.
(Image credits: N. Stanford, source; L. Gledhill, source; The Slow Mo Guys, source)