24th August 2011

The Metre and Up with passing swallow

I sit eyeing the Metre from my usual perch. However, in the still of the day, it is the hum from within the fuchsia bush behind which arrests my attention.

I stand motionless with the microphone planted in its midst, but it is the experience of listening through the headphones and not the recording itself which is of note:

the depth and width of hum and undulation of its play

the tight, small crackling of fidgeting fuchsia

the abrupt cut of a kitchen knife edge

the horizontal curlew call

the hypnotic draw