We have just enjoyed a weekend of what I can only call audio tourism.
Work took Nigel to the old university city of Leuven, and I joined him there. After the regular hum of several hours of train travel, arriving was a treat for the ears.
In little leafy parks we heard spring birdsong. I noted how familiar favourites like blackbirds and robins had a slightly different call, like a different accent.
Leuven was also hosting a festival of sound installations called Hear Here. The most memorable was in a glasshouse in the botanic gardens - a set of 250 tiny speakers suspended from the ceiling emitted the sound of bees coming and going and one could immerse oneself in the buzz of the hive. On listeners’ faces were looks of
wonder.
But the best sounds of all were at the Abbey Park on the outskirts of the city. Standing by a reed bed on the edge of a lake we were startled by the bright sudden burst of notes which heralded the Cetti's warbler. A bird which I had never seen before, and, as it remained hidden, still haven't!
Also in the reeds were a bunch of very enthusiastic frogs. Unlike the chaps in my pond at home who sound merely as if they are suffering from dyspepsia, these frogs were loud and ebullient, like the party one hears in the distance and longs to be invited to.
Coming home now, my ears
feel as if they have had a work-out – they are all nice and ready to pick up
the calls of the swifts, newly arrived in St Albans.
No comments:
Post a Comment