Artist Sho Shibuya paints daily meditations on a copy of The New York Times. These particular examples are part of a recent collection, Falling From the Sky, that features realistic trompe l’oeil droplets that celebrate rain and rainy days. Having spent many an hour contemplating water droplets on my window, I love these. (Image credits: S. Shibuya; via Colossal)
As a child, I always loved watching rain on the windows as I rode in the car. Hemispherical droplets got stretched by the wind flowing over them. But they never stretched smoothly; instead they seemed to shiver and shake unevenly. A recent study looks at a similar situation: drops of glycerin forced to slide along a horizontal surface under the force of the wind. Like the drops on my parents’ car, the glycerin gets stretched out into an elongated oval. Surface waves develop atop the drop and move downstream. The drops, the authors observe, move a bit like a crawling caterpillar, pilling up and smoothing out as they move. (Image credit: rain – A. Alves, experiment – A. Chahine et al.; research credit: A. Chahine et al.; via APS Physics)
Bird’s nest fungi are tiny — only about a centimeter wide. When mature, they form a curved splash cap containing spore sacs known as peridioles. Then they await rain. When a lucky drop hits the mushroom, it flings the peridioles out of their nest. Some will use sticky cords to cling to nearby blades of grass, setting them up to eventually hitch a ride to elsewhere with a grazing herbivore. It’s an impressive journey for a teeny spore sac, and it all starts with a single drop of rain. (Image and video credit: Deep Look)
Pitcher plants often entice their insect victims with sweet nectar before trapping them in inescapable viscoelastic goo. But some species go even further. Nepenthes gracilis, a species native to Southeast Asia uses its leafy springboard to lure its prey. Once an ant crawls to the underside of the leaf, a falling rain drop will spell its doom. When drops hit the leaf, it deflects down and jerks up, thanks to its shape and stiffness. The motion catapults insects into the pitcher, where digestive fluids await. While we’ve seen some fast-moving plants before, this is a rare example of a plant with an externally-driven speed mechanism. With it, the pitcher plant doesn’t have to wait or expend any metabolic effort to reset for the next insect. (Image credit: GFC Collection/Alamy; research credit: A. Lenz and U. Bauer; via New Scientist)
Rain is not unique to our planet: Titan has methane rain and exoplanet WASP 78b is home to iron rain (ouch). A new study examines rainfall across planets from the perspective of individual rain drops. The authors examine raindrop shape, terminal velocity, and evaporation rate as a function of droplet size for a wide range of known and speculated atmospheres.
They found that raindrops are surprisingly universal. Although planets with higher gravity tend to produce smaller raindrops, they found a remarkably narrow range for maximum drop size. That’s a pretty wild result, all things considered! The idea that iron, ammonia, methane, and countless other fluids falling through vastly different atmospheres all share very common characteristics is fascinating. (Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/SwRI/MSSS/Brian Swift; research credit: K. Loftus and R. Wordsworth; via Science News; submitted by Kam-Yung Soh)
Rainfall can help spread pathogens from an infected plant to healthy ones. This transfer can happen both through droplets and by dry-dispersal of pathogen spores (top). When a raindrop hits a leaf, its initial spread triggers a vortex ring of air that can lift thousands of dry spores into a swirling trajectory (bottom). That boost in height carries spores beyond the slower wind speeds of the plant’s boundary layer and into faster air streams that disperse it toward healthy plants. (Image and research credit: S. Kim et al.)
In the clean and simplified world of the laboratory, a droplet’s impact on water is symmetric. From a central point of impact, it sends out a ring of ripples, or even a crown splash, if it has enough momentum. But the real world is rarely so simple.
Here we see how droplets impact when the wind is blowing against them. The drops fall at an angle, creating an oblique cavity. Rings of ripples spread from the impact, but the ligaments of a splash crown form only on the leeward side. As the wind speed increases, so does the violence of the impact, eventually beginning to trap tiny pockets of air beneath the surface. Those miniature bubbles can spray droplets and aerosols into the air when they finally pop. (Image and video credit: A. Wang et al.)
The water cycle is quite a bit more complicated than what we learn in elementary school, and the environment around us contributes to that cycle in invisible but vital ways. In this video, Joe Hanson of It’s Okay to Be Smart pulls back the veil on this in the context of the Amazon river basin and how the Amazon rainforest itself creates an atmospheric river that carries more water than its namesake river.
Trees release water into the air almost constantly as they transpire. And to trigger that water to fall as rain, trees can release other compounds that serve as a nucleus around which raindrops can form. The condensing raindrops form clouds, which lower the air pressure and create winds, thereby creating an atmospheric river flowing from the Atlantic back up the Amazon River. That stream carries rain that feeds the rainforest and the Amazon River, continuing the cycle. (Video and image credit: It’s Okay to Be Smart)
If you imagine the shape of a raindrop, you probably think of a tear drop shape, but the reality of rain is much more complicated. It’s Okay to Be Smart has a great primer on the subject that takes a look at the forces on a raindrop and shows you the actual shape they take, which depends largely on their size.
Small raindrops tend to coalesce together over time and get larger and progressively flatter. When the drop’s volume gets too large (below), it balloons up like a parachute. Researchers call this a bag. Stretched into a film, the drop’s surface tension is no longer able to win its fight against aerodynamic forces, and the drop shreds into smaller droplets. (Video and image credit: It’s Okay to Be Smart)
As a child, I loved to ride in the car while it was raining. The raindrops on the window slid around in ways that fascinated and confused me. The idea that the raindrops ran up the window when the car moved made sense if the wind was pushing them, but why didn’t they just fly off instantly? I could not understand why they moved so slowly. I did not know it at the time, but this was my early introduction to boundary layers, the area of flow near a wall. Here, friction is a major force, causing the flow velocity to be zero at the wall and much faster – in this case roughly equal to the car’s speed – just a few millimeters away. This pushes different parts of large droplets unevenly. Notice how the thicker parts of the droplets move faster and more unsteadily than those right on the window. This is because the wind speed felt by the taller parts of the droplet is larger. Gravity and the water’s willingness to stick to the window surface help oppose the push of the wind, but at least with large drops at highway speeds, the wind’s force eventually wins out. (Image credit: A. Davidhazy, source; via Flow Viz)