Soundscapes, Episodes

Under the poplars beside milepost 16 is a place of enchantment and quiet sanctuary, particularly in times of broiling heat. Join me in tonight’s episode as revel in its soundscape and its dappled beauty as we explore its very particular genius loci. You can also hear about the saga concerning our little swan family and what happened this week to their young cygnet (happy ending). Journal entry: “11th August, Wednesday Geese calls across the dawn skies Haunting echelons Black against grey. Ro...

The hot weather has broken with rain and slab-like grey/white skies. While we wait for the sun’s return, it’s probably a good time to remember those lazy sunny days of long ago (and not so long ago). In this week’s episode we explore the sounds of canals in summer from bees to lock sluices and enjoy the words of John Betjeman and E Temple Thurston. We also discover the meaning of the word 'haysel'. Journal entry: “16th June, Wednesday The summer heat has come, dustily settling across the fiel...

This week the rains swept in pushed by great fronts of ocean air – moisture from places with magical names that I hear on the shipping forecast and can only imagine. Life around progressed without a murmur and the ground drank heavily. In this episode we listen to the rain and to Thomas Merton. We also thinking about casting clouts and what that might mean. Journal entry: “7th May, Friday It was -1⁰ when I got up this morning. The sky was lightening in the east and the trees and hedgerows, b...

Tonight, the NB Erica is locked in ice. There’s a wolfish southeaster blowing and the night is filled with rasping creaks and groans. There are times when the ice sings. Acoustic lightning flashes that dart across the frozen water surface. Journal entry: “9th February, Tuesday. Last night’s snow low uneasily on the ground, like a miser’s blanket, threadbare and uneven. But it’s enough to see the lacework of indistinct and broken-formed tracks of night-time life. For once, I can see what Penny...

The temperature is just above freezing and the ground is slick with mud. Join me tonight for a night-walk to Bearley (Odd) lock to see what sounds we can hear and feel the quiet stillness of the canal in the depths of winter’s night. Journal entry: “2nd December, Wednesday. The swan is back. Its serpentine reflection ghosts the water. I indulge myself that it is the same juvenile cob that disappeared a month or so ago. It now has a mate and the water carries them effortlessly like tw...