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Why do icicles have pointy ends?

Why do icicles have pointy ends? asks a reader.

Icicles hanging from the roof on a winter’s day look like glittering stalactites, suspended from the roofs of hidden caves. It  wasn’t until 2005 that scientists figured out the mathematical formula = that described the shape of stalactites. In 2006, those same University of Arizona scientists discovered that the formula also described the spiky shape of icicles.

Icicles on a roof in Norway.

Stalactites and icicles, however, are formed by different processes. Stalactites grow — very slowly, over many years — from the minerals left behind when dripping water evaporates. Icicles, on the other hand, are made of water itself, frozen in the shape of an icy sword.

How do icicles form? A snow-covered roof on a sunny, frigid day makes a perfect icicle incubator. Sunlight heats the rooftop snow, which is also warmed by heat radiating from the attic. As the snow melts, water trickles down the roof to the icy-cold edges and metal gutters. Since metal is such a good conductor of thermal energy, the water quickly loses heat to the gutter. And so it refreezes, forming an icy ridge.

As water continues to run down the roof, pulled by gravity, it collects where its fellow molecules have already frozen. (Water molecules are attracted to other water molecules.) Ice adds to ice, drip by drip. And slowly, an icicle grows towards the ground.

(Ever notice an icicle’s bumpy ridges? Scientists say the bumps start out as small bulges. Since they jut out into the air, these bulges lose heat more quickly than other areas of the icicle. So trickling-down water refreezes on the bumps first, making them thicken into ridges.)

But it’s not just dripping water that fuels the growth of an icy spike. The temperature of the liquid water dripping off the roof is higher than that of the freezing air. Heat energy flows from warmer objects to cooler objects. So heat diffuses from the thin film of water coating the icicle’s surface into the cooler air around it.

As it loses some of its heat, the water film freezes, piling on another layer of ice to the growing icicle. The icicle’s growth is amplified by a peculiar feature of water: Liquid water actually expands as it freezes (think ice cubes bulging out of a tray). This process of melting, dripping and refreezing makes icicles grow into long, glittering spikes. Icicles can grow 5 or more feet long before their own weight causes them to crash to the ground.

The secret to an icicle’s sharp point is the surrounding air. How does it work? As water flows down the ice, loses heat to the air, and refreezes, a mini-updraft of warmed air whooshes up the icicle. This warmer air surrounds the top of the icicle like a blanket.

Since the top of the icicle is warmer than the bottom, its growth slows. Meanwhile, as long as water continues to drip, the tip grows more. The result: a long, tapering, spiky icicle — with a very pointy tip.

How come foods like apples can get moldy, even in a cold refrigerator crisper drawer?

How come foods like apples can get moldy, even in a cold refrigerator crisper drawer? asks reader Stephanie Waslin.

Ever start to bite into a red, ripe strawberry, only to discover a slimy white coating on the underside? As the fast food commercial goes, “You gotta eat.” Except in this case, it’s the mold that’s beat you to a tasty fruit snack.

Mold and other kinds of fungus are champions at chowing down, and they’re not picky eaters. In fact, human feet are favorites of fungi, who enjoy making a hearty lunch of dead skin cells between your toes (and spawning dozens of athlete’s foot remedies).

What is mold, anyway? Fungus can’t be categorized as a plant or an animals. The Fungi — from mold to mushrooms — form their very own kingdom. And the fungi kingdom is huge; scientists estimate that there are more than 1 million species worldwide. The fungus is definitely among us, accounting for a startling one-quarter of the mass of all living things on Earth.

And that’s a good thing, since the fungi are among the best natural recyclers, reducing fallen trees and fruit to fertile soil. Unfortunately, fungi don’t discriminate, and they’re just as happy reducing an overripe peach hidden in your fridge to a squishy, rotting mass.

A moldy clementine.

Microscopic mold spores are found nearly everywhere, and grow most quickly in warm, moist conditions. So a cold refrigerator will keep food mold-free longer. But some molds grow just fine in chilly temperatures. And given enough time, mold always wins. Some ways to minimize mold: Keep the refrigerator clean, using baking soda and water to clean inside and a weak bleach solution on rubber door gaskets. And if food looks moldy–a bit of white fluff on one strawberry in a bunch, or a soft spot on an orange–don’t bring it home.

(Watch a peach grow mold and decay at http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/27/DecayingPeachSmall.gif.)

Molds may annoy us, or even sicken us. No one wants to (or should) eat a moldy slice of bread. But molds are also our friends. Penicillium mold gives us both antibiotics and blue cheese dressing. Yeast makes bread dough rise as it consumes sugar and spits out carbon dioxide. And let’s not forget mushrooms on pizza.

Molds come in a rainbow of colors, and have a surprisingly complicated genetic code. When scientists mapped the genes of a reddish bread mold called Neurospora crassa, they discovered about 10,000 genes (we humans may have about 25,000). They already knew that the mold was exquisitely in tune with the passing of days on Earth, since it both eats and sends off spores in 24-hour shifts. But they also found genes that allow this mold to sense red light, even as it lurks silently in your breadbox.

And while this red mold likes bread in the warm indoors, it also thrives in the aftermath of forest and field fires, using the smoldering fire’s heat to multiply, then happily living off the sugars in singed plants and trees.