This scene caught my eye this morning on a short walk. The proliferation of pink flowers on the tangled vintage rose bush pulled my attention first, followed by the lushness of the backdrop that even includes a redwood survivor in the upper right, the bright yellow green moss painting the wood, the missing boards in one layer of fence, and the chain link from a more recent era. It evokes something for me about holding the contrasts—the roses, the elder survivor, the disrepair, the lushness, the chainlink.
I read a post about sound and silence this week that really touched me. The post, No birdsong, no water in the creek, no beating wings: how a haven for nature fell silent tells the story of Sugarloaf Ridge state park in northern California, and the work of bio-acoustician Bernie Krause, recording the soundscape there for over 30 years. The morning before I read the post, I’d been startled by the sound of one lone frog not far from my daughter’s house. I so rarely hear frogs today, a sound so common in my life in years past I took it for granted.
I’ve known about Bernie Krause’s work with sound and nature for many years but was unaware of his project at Sugarloaf. I missed an installation called The Great Animal Orchestra at the San Francisco Exploratorium. It ended in October, 2023. But I found an impressive interactive online experience of The Great Animal Orchestra.
Slow down in your day for a few minutes and try it out. Get your headphones on (over ear recommended instead of ear buds). Don’t miss the Learning to Listen soundscape. It’s an awesome experience—very hands-on listening. You’ll hear “whisper howling.” And you’ll discover the words biophony, geophony, and anthropophony. Share the listening experience with the kids in your life.
Subterranean listening
From The Great Animal Orchestra, you might want to take a trip into the soundscape in soil with ecoacoustics specialist (now there’s a new career) Carlos Abrahams and scientists from the University of Warwick. They are creating a library of soil sounds.
From the post April 19 in The Guardian, “Crunching worms, squeaking voles, drumming ants: how scientists are learning to eavesdrop on the sounds of soil”:
“Last year, a study found soil was the single most species-rich habitat on Earth, with more than half of all species living in it. But only a fraction have been identified, and most are too small to see. Soundscapes are becoming an increasingly popular way of monitoring wildlife abundance, above ground, beneath the earth and underwater.”
Listen to a sampling of their recordings here.
Enter the Blue Zone
And from the soundscape in the soil, take a dive into the blue zone to hear 3D humpback whale song, recorded by UC Davis scientist James Crutchfield with a hydroambiphone in January of 2024 on a trip to the island of Maui (link shared by a reader and friend of James).
“The hydroambiphone records the entire spatial field so that you can zoom in, zoom out, pan left and pan right,” said Crutchfield, noting the recordings enable scientists to better pinpoint the location of vocalizing whales. “These whales are obviously talking to each other and interacting, but what are they saying? If we can record these vocalizations in the context of social behaviors, we can start to understand some of the meaning and semantics of the calls.”
One of the most extraordinary experiences in my life was listening to whale song while snorkeling in Kealakekua Bay, Hawai’i in 1997, a peak experience shared with my mermaid daughter.
From the MDL Archives
The Requirements of Connection—learn about Bird Song Hero, Song Sleuth, ChirpOMatic, and Merlin Bird ID to name a few. I highly recommend extending your listening skills with a game of Bird Song Hero. It’s created by The Cornell Lab of Ornithology.
Thanks so much for reading. Be well. And please consider sharing this post with family, friends, teachers, and/or colleagues who might appreciate it and put it to work.