Playing the Other

Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear Tracks

Babbling Brook

I don’t need to tell you that 2020 is the kind of year that takes your breath away and sets you on edge. I derive sustenance from nature and today’s weekly hike took us by a babbling brook, where we stopped to catch our breath. Enjoy this video / audio and feel free to download the longer audio tracks to use when you need your own escape.

Photos from Sweedler Nature Preserve at Lick Brook.

Babbling Brook recorded at Sweedler Nature Preserve at Lick Brook. Lightly Babbling Brook recorded at Lindsay-Parsons Biodiverse Preserve.

Heather MayComment
Wood Thrush

There is something magical about the sound of wood thrushes singing in summer. I think it’s the combination of breathing room between phrases, as though the wood thrush is putting energy out into the world and then listening carefully before crafting a response. Their energy matches the slow pace of a summer stroll through the woods, full of breath and magic yet heavy with dew. The wood thrush delivers the trills of their song seemingly with a shower of glitter…but glitter that falls through heavily canopied woods and needs no clean up - the perfect accompaniment to a fairy gathering.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Heather MayComment
Green Frogs, Banjos, and Good Friends

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Earlier this. year, I asked friends to create something to help me mark turning half a century old and promised that at some point in the next year I would respond in kind. Steven Méthot wrote and performed this beautiful self-described crooked tune, “Saugahatchee and Seneca.” He explained this decision as follows:

I chose to play it slower as an “air”, partly because it brings out the unexpected turn of the Mixolydian mode, a nod to Scottish and Irish influences. That “turn” figured in my imaginings of you running along shorelines and through watersheds, ready for your next haiku epiphany. It did not escape me that both place names in the title are indigenous. Here in Canada we have started in recent years to make land acknowledgements during public events.

He then shared an example of an acknowledgement he makes when MCing events. (I have begun using land acknowledgements and a little bit of local history before each of the first classes I teach here at HWS and I am so grateful for another example to use.)

(Steven kindly granted me permission to share his recording and his thoughts with this post.)

 

I struggled for some time to come up with a response creation, due to the beauty of this song. And then, a couple of days ago I was out for a run and there were a bunch of green frogs calling back and forth - some time ago, but in my adult incarnation, I recall walking past ponds and hearing a frog that made a sound reminiscent of a plucked banjo string. It has become one of my favorite sounds. I love that green frogs have different pitches and sounds to their calls, but they sing distinctively one note at a time. Every time I come across a pond with green frogs, I stop to listen for a while. 

I stopped to record the green frogs and then was inspired to try and break down their song and mash it up with the banjo Steven sent. Above you will find the result of that experimentation. The frog sounds have been manipulated to add a great deal of reverb, and all was recorded via iPhone. If you have headphones handy, I’d recommend using them for a fuller sense of the mix and immersion into the space of the song.

Here are the original frog sounds, if you are interested to hear the full recording in order and largely devoid of reverb. (I added a touch just to make the sound from the iPhone a bit richer.)

Heather MayComment
Frog Song

As a child, I loved when my family went to Indiana state parks and hiked, preferably when it was swampy and I could get all mucky. The sound of frogs has underscored many crucial moments in my life - perhaps none more so than the hike Kelly and I took at McCormick’s Creek State Park to decide whether or not to make an offer on the first house we owned. Frogs remind me of freedom, of summer, of the promise of things unseen. (They also feature in my favorite children’s book, Tuesday, by David Wiesner. I highly recommend checking it out!)

Photo taken on the Cayuga-Seneca Canal Trail at the point where I recorded this sound.Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Photo taken on the Cayuga-Seneca Canal Trail at the point where I recorded this sound.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Running through Puddles

Spring brings many puddles to the Finger Lakes - some years from melting snow and this year from rain. I’ve been spending a lot of time running on the Cayuga-Seneca Canal Trail to avoid the crowds at Seneca Lake State Park during covid-19, and it is blissfully peaceful. It has also lately been quite swampy in places. Today’s run was a perfect chance to embody “the only way out is through” because running through the middle of ankle deep puddles was a much wiser approach than trying to skirt the edges only to get stuck in shoe sucking mud. So, I plowed through the middle of extensive puddles and enjoyed the sensation of the cold water splashing onto the backs of my thighs and into my shoes. As a result, I not only had the joy of the sound of splashing water, but also of the squishing from my shoes as my feet got icy and then warmed back from running. These moments take me back to the freedom of my childhood, running through the woods, playing in the mud, and generally not giving a damn what got dirty in the meantime.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Nuthatch

The first time I recall seeing nuthatches with any consistency was when we put up our first bird feeder in Bloomington, IN. They pretty immediately jumped to the top of my favorite birds list. There’s something about the combination of their tree-clinging posture, upturned heads, colorful markings, and call that I find irresistible. I used to think their call sounded cranky, but now I just think they are always finding a way to laugh. Given current life in a pandemic, I could use some laughter right now. Maybe you could, too.

These tracks were recorded on my back deck. One is a full track of a visit with a nuthatch. The other is a bonus loop of some nuthatch laughter.

Photo credit: Dan WilsonLearn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Photo credit: Dan Wilson

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Heather MayComment
Train in the Distance
Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

When I was in elementary school, we moved across town to the house I grew up in. One of my strongest nighttime memories was hearing the wail of a train whistle for the first time. I felt like the train tracks were right in our back yard, even though they were at least a mile away. I recall being very excited to hear the trains at night when I was supposed to be asleep. Many places I have lived since then also bring the sound of the train into my bedroom windows, and the sound always takes me back to my childhood: tall bed with drawers underneath, sister telling me stories, very 70s shag carpeting…

This recording was taken on the back deck of my current house, with a train passing through town around a mile away. It has a number of other sounds that I enjoy mixed in (birds calling and snow falling), though as a result it’s a bit busy.

Heather MayComment
Bird Call in Light Rain

Recorded on April 9, 2020 on the Cayuga-Seneca Canal Trail.

Those who know me know that I love the sound of birds. I can’t wait until it warms up here in Geneva to where we can leave our windows open and I can be gently roused from sleep by songbirds and daylight. There is something especially calming about the sounds of birds calling through a light patter of rain. It’s a reminder for me to breathe and listen.

(This sound was recorded while on a run, so it’s using just my iPhone mic as meshed with video.)

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Heather MayComment
Creaky Hardwood

There is no way to sneak up on anyone in our house. I don’t care how tiny you are or how gently you can glide across the floor, you will be heard. I (mostly) find this incredibly comforting. It reminds me that I have loved ones here with me. At times when buried fears start to creep in, it can be a bit eerie. But then I remember that we have the most skittish cats ever…so if they are out and about, I have nothing to fear. So much better than an alarm I might forget to dis/arm.

I do enjoy this sound along with other senses. I will never be accused of keeping a particularly clean house, but I do keep the floors as shiny as possible. I love the warmth of a well-polished hardwood floor. And Murphy’s oil soap smells delightful.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Heather MayComment
Sound of Fingers Typing
Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

One of the first rhythms I remember noticing is of the sound of my father’s fingers banging out his latest manuscript on an old manual typewriter. I always coveted the confidence he had in his thoughts to be able to hammer away at them like that. Every now and then I have a few moments where my own ideas flow out of me and onto the page. Today I had two hours of productive, exciting writing. The sound of my thoughts taking shape brought some moments of hope at a rather bleak time.

Heather MayComment
Rain in Gutters

I appreciate the sense of safety and security that the sound of a gentle rain pinging against the gutters brings. I have the luxury of being calmed by its lullaby, all while staying warm and dry in the house. In these days of the insecurity and loss of covid-19, I do not take this comfort for granted. I will not say I am lucky because to say so implies that I should feel gratitude for my fortune, yet this is a comfort we all should have. I feel profound sadness and rage for those denied these essential human rights. Healthcare and housing are human rights. My heart breaks for the way my country (US) has foresaken so many.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Heather MayComment
Tea Kettle

It’s not about the whistle of the kettle, it’s about the anticipation that the whistle of the kettle brings as I await my morning cup of coffee delightfully delivered to me in bed by the love of my life. He’ll set it down gently on my nightstand so that the luscious aroma nudges me out of dream state and eases me into the world. I treasure this quiet time before the sun rises, luxuriating under covers, clutching a warm cup of coffee to my chest, and taking long, deep breaths.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Heather MayComment
Cat Purring
Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Learn all about the Sound Journal - The Beauty of Which I Hear project.

Very little brings more joy than when my cat (Spooky the Monster) purrs. This is a tactile experience that comes as a result of petting. The Monster has an aggressive irrepressible purr that causes full body vibrations. She’s a sturdy cat who enjoys enthusiastic contact - so long as it’s on her terms - but her fur is incredibly silky and soft.

Heather MayComment