In “Re:Birth,” videographer Vadim Sherbakov explores the fascinating patterns of ferrofluids, which suspend tiny ferrous particles in another liquid, often oil. When this magnetic liquid is mixed with ink or paint, its black lines take on a labyrinthine appearance. The result is rather psychedelic, especially with Sherbakov’s bold colors. (Video and image credit: V. Sherbakov)
Inspired by the roaming rocks of Death Valley, researchers went looking for ways to make ice discs self-propel. Leidenfrost droplets can self-propel on herringbone-etched surfaces, so the team used them here, as well. On hydrophilic herringbones, they found that meltwater from the ice disc would fill the channels and drag the ice along with it.
But on hydrophobic herringbone surfaces, the ice disc instead attached to the crest of the ridges and stayed in place–until enough of the ice melted. Then the disc would detach and slingshot (as shown above) along the herringbones. This self-propulsion, they discovered, came from the asymmetry of the meltwater; because different parts of the puddle had different curvature, it changed the amount of force surface tension exerted on the ice. Thus, when freed, the ice disc tried to re-center itself on the puddle.
The team is especially interested in how effects like this could make ice remove itself from a surface. After all, it requires much less energy to partially melt some ice than it does to completely melt it. (Image and research credit: J. Tapochik et al.; via Ars Technica)
Albuquerque, New Mexico’s unique weather characteristics make it a popular destination for hot-air balloonists. While balloonists can control their altitude by warming or venting the air in their balloon, their horizontal travel comes at the mercy of the wind. (Just ask the erstwhile Wizard of Oz.) What makes Albuquerque special is a combination of topography, dry air, and altitude. Together, these features create the “Albuquerque box,” a circulation that gives south-flowing drainage winds below north-flowing prevailing winds.
The key to the box’s flow is a temperature inversion, where cooler, denser air is trapped near the surface and lighter, warmer air sits above. This typically occurs after a night of clear skies when much of the ground layer’s warm gets radiated away to space — something that’s easily done in high, dry altitudes.
Temperature inversions like this don’t last very long, though; by late morning, the sun’s warmth will dismantle the Albuquerque box. Still, it is a frequent enough occurrence, especially in the stable atmospheric conditions common in the autumn, that the city hosts an International Balloon Fiesta every October. (Image credit: B. Bos; via Physics Today)
When an iceberg flips, it creates waves that can endanger ships nearby, but the move can also trigger further melting. In the ocean, many factors, including wind and waves, can contribute to an iceberg flipping, so researchers studied small, lab-scale versions to see how melting–alone–affects an iceberg’s likelihood of flipping.
The results showed that melting alone was enough to destabilize icebergs and make them flip, as seen in the timelapse above. These mini-icebergs melted faster underwater, changing the berg’s overall shape and eventually triggering a flip. Corners developed at the waterline where the different melt rates above- and below-the-water met. Whenever a flip occurred, one of these corners would always settle at the new water line, causing the lab iceberg to change from a circular cylinder to a polygon as melting continued. (Image credit: M. Whiston; research and video credit: B. Johnson et al.; via APS)
If you spin a tank of water at a constant speed, it takes on a curved, parabolic shape–a demonstration often called Newton’s bucket. Here, a team from UCLA shows how it’s done, both in terms of the equipment needed and a concise explanation of the physics. In the rotating experiment, water is subjected to both gravity (which acts in a constant magnitude across the tank) and centrifugal force (which is stronger further from the axis of rotation). The shape that balances these forces is a paraboloid, which is why the water takes on that shape. (Video and image credit: UCLA SpinLab)
Tendrils of fog flow over the crest of a hill in this award-winning photograph from Ray Cao. Seen in timelapse, scenes like this show the sloshing, wave-like motion of fog. They’re a beautiful reminder that air and water move much the same. (Image credit: R. Cao/IAPOTY; via Colossal)
One of the perpetual challenges for fluid dynamicists is the large range of scales we often have to consider. For something like a cloud, that means tracking not only the kilometer-size scale of the cloud, but the large eddies that are about 100 meters across and smaller ones all the way down to the scale of millimeters. In turbulent flows, all of these scales matter. That problem is even harder for something like the Sun, where the sizes range from hundreds of thousands of kilometers down to only a few kilometers.
It’s those fine-scale features that we see captured here. This colorized image shows light and dark striations on solar granules. Scientists estimate that each one is between 20 and 50 kilometers wide. They’re reflections of the small-scale structure of the Sun’s magnetic field as it shapes the star’s hot, conductive plasma. (Image credit: NSF/NSO/AURA; research credit: D. Kuridze et al.; via Gizmodo)
In our industrialized society, pollutants are, to an extent, unavoidable. Even with technologies to drastically reduce the amount of pollutants leaving a factory or plant, some will still get released. It’s up to engineers to make sure that those released spread out enough that their overall concentration does not pose a risk to public health. In this Practical Engineering video, Grady explains some of the physics and engineering considerations that go into this task.
As he demonstrates, taller smokestacks speed up the buoyant exhaust plume (to an extent), which exposes the plume to higher winds, greater turbulence, and, thus, quicker dispersal. But atmospheric conditions and even nearby buildings all affect how a plume spreads. (Image and video credit: Practical Engineering)
Even when colder than its freezing point, water droplets have trouble freezing–unless there’s an impurity like dust that they can cling to. It’s been long understood in the lab that adding dust allows water to freeze at warmer temperatures, but proving that at atmospheric scales has been harder. But a new analysis of decades’ worth of satellite imagery has done just that. The team showed that a tenfold increase in dust doubled the likelihood of cloud tops freezing.
Since ice-topped clouds reflect sunlight and trap heat differently than water-topped ones, this connection between dust and icy clouds has important climate implications. (Image and research credit: D. Villanueva et al.; via Eos)
The Yarlung Zangbo River winds through Tibet as the world’s highest-altitude major river. Parts of it cut through a canyon deeper than 6,000 meters (three times the depth of the Grand Canyon). And other parts, like this section, are braided, with waterways that shift rapidly from season to season. The swift changes in a braided river’s sandbars come from large amounts of sediment eroded from steep mountains upstream. As that sediment sweeps downstream, some will deposit, which narrows channels and can increase their scouring. The river’s shape quickly becomes a complicated battle between sediment, flow speed, and slope. (Image credit: M. Garrison; animation credit: R. Walter; via NASA Earth Observatory)
