At a graveyard beside a church in Charleston and listening to the bells ring the hour. I am loving finding the churches in these old towns, and waiting for the top of the hour, quarter hours, half of the hours… They still ring out sweet and old amongst the traffic and city bustle.
Many of these old cities have cobblestone streets, and the sound of wheels moving over these is quite different, and somehow more pleasant than flatter substrate. The first car passes, and you can hear the thrapple of the tires on the stones. A second car passes, but is moving too slowly to make it out clearly.
The rustle of a broken palm, or ‘palmetto’ branch swinging and hitting the trunk. You can also hear the rustle of the live branches and long, pointy, dry leaves. The Dry chunchling sound is unlike any other tree sound I’ve heard.
I was listening to this bird, a small black crow-like thing. It sqwack-chirrups; what is it? Any ideas? And what comparisons can you make between the sounds of nature you hear, and the sounds man is making? Which do you prefer? Which is dominating, or ‘masking’ the other? Why is this happening?