A choir of katydid ancestors filled the Jurassic rainforest with song
On haunted history tours, people often visit eerie theaters and spooky mansions. Such old buildings are often settings for spine-tingling stories. They may also hum with noise too low to hear, from old plumbing or air ducts. That unheard sound, called infrasound, might be one reason these places give people the creeps. A new study hints that even though people can’t hear infrasound, it may influence their mood.
Infrasound is noise with frequencies below 20 hertz — around the lower limit of what humans can hear, says Kale Scatterty. A behavioral neuroscientist, he works at the University of Alberta in Edmonton, Canada. Some natural sources, such as the rumblings of volcanoes and earthquakes, produce infrasound. Traffic, trains, air conditioning systems and other tech also make this low-pitched noise.
Humans and many animals can’t hear infrasound. But past studies have suggested that animals may detect it with their bodies — and that it might even provoke anxiety or fear. Scatterty’s team wondered if people could detect infrasound. Our ears contain otolith organs that help us perceive our movement and position. These organs might pick up on vibrations too low to hear.
Scatterty and his colleagues had 36 people listen to music. Half of them were exposed to infrasound while they listened. The others were not. The scientists then compared the two groups’ responses to the music.
People exposed to infrasound rated music as sadder than those who heard it without infrasound. This was true whether the music itself was calm or unsettling. The infrasound group also said the music was less interesting and reported being more irritable. Cortisol, a stress hormone, was higher in people’s saliva after they experienced infrasound. But people couldn’t seem to tell whether they were in the infrasound group.
The results suggest that infrasound does influence humans’ mood and biology. It seems to happen without people being conscious of it, Scatterty says. The team shared its findings April 27 in Frontiers in Behavioral Neuroscience.
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Infrasound might especially affect people and animals near urban environments, Scatterty says. Those places have transit, air conditioning systems and other infrastructure that creates such low-frequency noises. But it’s not clear what the long-term impacts of infrasound exposure might be.
Another open question is whether infrasound provokes fear, he says. In this study, the participants — college students — didn’t report feeling scared or anxious when exposed to infrasound. And the emotional changes the team did measure could have been responses to the study setup. “It could have very well just been that we were priming them to feel something,” Scatterty says. And the students might have felt irritable because they had other places to be.
But a spookier environment might help deepen the investigation. Scatterty and his colleagues have thought about studying infrasound in a haunted house set up for Halloween. “Maybe when you’re in a haunted house, yes, you would react more fearfully because you’re primed to be afraid of something.”

Researchers outfitted two rooms with speakers to play music. Outside of those rooms were two subwoofers — speakers that produce low sounds. In this study, they played infrasound.
The 36 study participants heard either a soothing song that might play at a spa or an eerie tune that would fit in a horror film. Half of the participants heard the music while infrasound played. The team then asked people how the music sounded and how it made them feel.
The researchers compared the answers of those who listened to music with the infrasound off and on (Figures A and B). They also sampled the study participants’ spit to study whether cortisol concentration — a marker of stress — was higher after infrasound exposure (Figure C shows individual measurements as dots and the averages as bars). After answering these questions, participants said whether they thought they had been exposed to infrasound (Figure D).
In the sea, soft-bodied sea slugs crawl around without shells to protect them. Instead, they sport dazzling colors and flashy patterns to warn would-be predators that they’re toxic. Now, researchers have learned that many of these vibrant hues come from structures under the slugs’ skin.
These slugs, called nudibranchs (NU-dih-branks), are sometimes dubbed the “butterflies of the sea.” Their colors are “exceptionally bright,” says materials scientist and physicist Samuel Humphrey. He works at the Max Planck Institute of Colloids and Interfaces in Potsdam, Germany. Nudibranchs’ range of colors and patterns exceeds those of other ocean dwellers and is only like that of butterflies and birds, he says.
Not much was known about nudibranch colors, Humphrey says. But in nature, some of these colors — such as white, blue and purple — are hard to get from pigments. (Those are molecules that provide color.) That made Humphrey’s team suspect the slugs’ colors instead arise from light waves bouncing off structures on their bodies. Such structural color can create hues as intense as those seen on the sea slugs.

Humphrey collected one species of nudibranchs off the coast of France. Others, he and his colleagues bought from aquarium shops. The researchers looked at the creatures under the microscope and saw tiny dots of colors that combined to create a shade. For instance, a nudibranch might look purple, but zoom in, and you may find specks of red and blue. “It’s a bit like mixing paints until you get the color you want,” Humphrey says.
Actually, he adds, “it’s better than that.” Sea slugs’ hues arise from specific wavelengths, or colors, of light bouncing off them and reaching our eyes. And the team found that, for a given color, nudibranchs reflect up to 80 percent of light that hits them. That makes their hues more vivid than those produced by pigments, which create colors by absorbing light. Losing light means losing brightness, Humphrey explains.
The researchers shared their results in the March issue of the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.
With a powerful microscope, the team saw stacks of tiny plates under nudibranchs’ skin. The plates were crystals made of guanine. The thickness of the plates and the distance between them in a stack determined the colors that they reflected. That allows sea slugs to wear a rainbow of colors made of just one material.
The many tiny dots of color on sea slugs’ skin creates an effect akin to how TVs make images with many spots of only a few colors. This is called pixelation. “It feels like a thing that humans have invented,” Humphrey says. “But actually, evolution had invented it millions of years ago.”

Microscope images revealed close-ups of nudibranchs’ skin (Figures A–F). These images show the many dots of different hues that make up a single area of color on the animals. Researchers also measured how these areas interact with light (Figures I–N). The graph in Figure I goes with the image in Figure A, Figure J goes with Figure B and so on. The graphs show the reflectance, or how much light reflects off differently colored spots to reach our eyes. Most colors have a specific wavelength at which the most light is reflected. For example, Figure C shows the pink region of Hypselodoris bullockii, which has some violet colored dots (Figure C). These dots reflect the most light at a wavelength of around 400 nanometers (Figure K).
For the first time, scientists have measured metal pollutants leaching from a piece of space junk in the atmosphere. They caught a burst of lithium as a SpaceX rocket burned up high above Earth’s surface. Such pollutants can damage the ozone layer and may impact global climate.
Humans have been launching metal things into orbit around Earth for nearly 70 years. But the pace of launches has skyrocketed in the past decade. And private companies plan to boost the number of launches in the near future. Consider SpaceX’s Starlink system. This system provides internet to far-flung places. It will eventually consist of more than 40,000 satellites. Already, nearly 10,000 Starlink satellites orbit Earth.
Each piece of Starlink equipment has a planned life of about five years. After that, the satellite burns up in the upper atmosphere. This releases metals. They include lithium, aluminum and copper. Those metals may speed up chemical reactions that destroy ozone. That’s a problem, because the ozone layer of Earth’s atmosphere protects life on Earth from getting too much ultraviolet (UV) light from the sun.
Metal pollution from space junk may also affect Earth’s climate. Such metals could change the balance of light that reaches the ground or gets bounced back to space.
The stratosphere is the layer of the atmosphere that extends from 14 to 64 kilometers (9 to 31 miles) above Earth. A 2023 study found that about 10 percent of particles there contain pollutants from burnt-up satellites and rocket parts.

Scientists wanted to see if they could directly trace such particles to a piece of space debris. They got their chance on February 19, 2025. That day, the researchers observed a cloud of lithium about 100 kilometers (60 miles) above Germany. It was blowing away from the upper stage of a Falcon 9 rocket. This rocket part contains fuel and an engine. The rocket part made a fireball as it broke apart over Ireland and the United Kingdom.
“A few hours after the reentry of this rocket, we could see 10 times more lithium than we would have observed otherwise,” says Claudia Stolle. She’s a meteorologist at the Leibniz Institute of Atmospheric Physics. That’s in Germany.
The measurements relied on lidar. Lidar sends out laser pulses and detects the light that bounces back. The laser light is tuned to specific wavelengths that reflect off particular materials, such as lithium.
The team also ran computer models of the atmosphere. These showed that the wind had carried the lithium from the spot where the rocket came down to the area over Kühlungsborn, Germany. That’s where the lidar was located.
The researchers shared their findings February 19. The work appeared in Communications Earth and Environment.
The technique could help monitor potential harms from space debris. Meteorites — space rocks that fall to Earth — bring metals into the atmosphere. But falling space junk may one day boost metal pollution by around 40 percent, Stolle’s team estimated. Tracking such contaminants and their effects will become increasingly important.
More companies and countries are planning to launch satellites into orbit, Stolle notes. “All of them will burn up sooner or later.”

Using a technique called lidar, researchers in northern Germany caught a burst of lithium in the upper atmosphere. The lithium came from a piece of a Falcon 9 rocket. Carried by the wind, the lithium spread from one point to a wider area. This type of spread is called a plume. The figure on the left is a heat map. It shows the density of lithium (per cubic centimeter) at different altitudes over time (shown in local German time). The plot on the right shows the lithium density at different altitudes at 1:30 a.m. on February 20. The amount of lithium is higher in the center of the plume and lower at the plume’s edges.