The mysterious silence of the volcano

The sudden eruption of Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull volcano on Wednesday morning after nearly 200 dormant years, has had an interesting affect on our soundscape here in the UK and across much of Europe too.

Anyone who has heard my recordings or read earlier posts will be well aware of the low pitched rumble that creeps into even the most beautifully peaceful sounding places. The boom of the aircraft fighting to be heard amongst the birds and the breeze.

Well no aircrafts have left or arrived in British airspace for three days now as the ash clouds from the volcano have made it too dangerous to fly. The roar overhead has left us.

I would love to say that I've really noticed the quiet in the sky, but to be honest I haven't, because day to day there are so many other industrial and traffic related noises around the city that clarity hasn't exactly been restored. For people living closer to airports and flight paths, or for those out in the country where it's a bit quieter though, there is a real difference.

I rode out into the countryside today and must admit that it was strange to sit and listen without the bassy wobble above. I actually felt a little unnerved hearing the trees creak. I'm not used to it being so quiet. Something familiar was missing.

It made me realise that normally, even when I think I am only hearing one plane overhead, the sound of all those planes in the sky must be merging together and dispersing infrasonics (frequencies too low to hear) all around us. Adding a hidden depth to our soundscape which has gradually become the norm.

This deep bass bubble which engulfs us has been popped, giving us the clarity and freedom to hear nature unspoiled, but we are so used to it being there that the countryside sounds tinny and empty without it.

It would take longer than we're going to be allowed to get used to a world outside the bubble, as the planes will surely be back in the sky within the week. I hope though that this experience enables me to hear, feel and understand more clearly, the often unnoticed affect of the sonics of airtraffic on my environment.

Bird Vs Flying Machine - Some more thoughts

Here are a few of my thoughts inspired by listening back to "Bird vs Flying Machine" (see post below).

The birds created this beautiful cacophony , so varied and intriguing, beautifully intertwined and harmonious, melodic and tuneful, full of varied tones, rhythms, pitches and counterpoints. Giant timbres overlapping in the air. And then there was the plane above. A continuous hum, drone and roar. The sound of grey looming overhead, casting a giant cloud over the soundscape.

This got me thinking about how man borrows from nature, recreating what we need in machinic form. The plane allows man to fly as the birds do but it cannot sing. Is is louder, bigger and more powerful, but it doesn't spread seed, converse with its neighbours or breed new life. It doesn't glide and sing in harmony amongst others, choosing instead to chug on alone, avoiding contact and interaction .

We can emulate the function but we cannot recreate the beauty. But then I suppose this is the purpose of commerce. It is not to primarily look or sound, but to carry, to make and save money and to streamline and tighten at every opportunity.

But is this to not look close enough? Given closer thought our modern form of flying en mass shares much more than just the sky with the birds. For they don't really fly alone, but as part of a complex system, at different heights, speeds and times, monitored, organised and conducted by air traffic controllers. I suppose the airport is their tree branch, a place to rest, refuel and catch up with fellow fliers.

And in a way planes spread their seed to as they deliver people from place to place, sharing knowledge, ideas and culture, spreading new life across the globe. Carrying food across continents, filling supermarket shelves or delivering aid. There are also the planes that do literally fly together in sequence, be it for artistic purpose at air shows or in combat situations during conflict.

I think what intrigues me so much about this is the fact that it has taken so much time, money and resource for man to emulate something that birds can do so effortlessly and without capital. What makes this particular example so interesting though is that of all the means of travel we have, flying is the only one upon which we rely one hundred percent on technology.

Cars, trains, lorries and buses all allow us to move quicker and carry more but we could still walk instead if they didn't exist. The same for boats. Ok, we may not be able swim around the world, but we can swim, and some people do so over extraordinary distances.

But however many times we try jumping and flapping our arms, we always come back down.

Bird vs Flying Machine

Listening back to some field recording I have been doing in Southern Spain recently, I came across a really interesting section of sound that I want to share with you. What you can hear is a plane flying overhead and a cacophony of birds twittering and singing away in the foreground.

This was recorded just with the stereo mic of my portable recorder, and the way that the two distinct sounds are so well balanced has set off so many thoughts and questions for me regarding the relationship between man and nature, how we emulate, recreate and then feedback so many things from the natural world, and how nature continues to adapt and interact with the things we throw at it.

I know studies have been done that prove that birds sing louder and higher pitched in cities than the countryside, and I wonder if the roar of an aeroplane has the same effect.