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On the remote eastern shores of Maui lies one of the worlds natural wonders: the Pools of ‘O’heo Gulch. Access to the wild shoreline where these pools empty into the Pacific Ocean is only by a multi-hour journey through dense rainforest and a seemingly endless number of muddy single lane bridges and tight coastal switchbacks. But when you finally arrive you are rewarded with an extraordinary river that runs out into the sea through a series of startlingly beautiful waterfalls and deep pools. During drier days and seasons, it presents itself as an idyllic Hawaiian playground seemingly designed to charm even the most well-travelled visitor. During a storm, even if the rain is miles distant somewhere on the slopes of the Haleakala volcano that rises steeply up into the clouds above, the gentle stream swells so quickly into a dangerous cataract that it has claimed more than a few lives over the years.
This recording was taken just a few steps along the coast from this enchanting river’s egress into the sea, at the margin between the lava with its sparse coastal scrub and where the rainforest and grasses begin to fill in and march up the Pipiwai watershed to the volcano’s rim. Crashing surf is just at the edge of earshot as a low rumble in the distance throughout the recording. The subtle wave sounds ebb and flow like the drums of approaching legions. Layered above this are the almost musical sounds of a steady breeze, occasionally gusting with real force. Of course, the insects and birds that call this quiet corner of Polynesia home make cameo appearances throughout. And finally, given that this is one of the rainiest spots on earth (receiving over 300 inches each year), the recording provides the periodic gentle (and sometimes more forceful) sound of rain.
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Bondi Beach is one of the world’s most beautiful city beaches. It is graced with clean white sand, turquoise water, perfect sunrises, and a steady swell for surfers. The Northern Headland (aka Ben Buckler) of Bondi Bay consists of weathered sandstone cliffs that drop right down into the surf. But at low tide when the surf isn’t too large, you can walk among the tidal pools and watch the waves steadily pound and surge up onto the flat rocks that jut out into the bay, forming a point just a few hundred meters from where the sand ends. It is such a popular spot that solitude is hard to come by. But I wanted this to be nature soundscape of Bondi as it has sounded for millions of years; that is, no people sounds. In order to avoid the any human-made distractions from the land, sea or air, this recording was taken in the hours well before dawn with low tide occurring at about the half way point in the recording. The recording is so close to the water that you can sometimes hear the waves surge across the flat rocks and splash just inches away from the microphone.
The mind searches for patterns and meaning everywhere. The chaotic syncopation of a steady surf breaking across the flat rocks of the Bondi headland eludes pattern. And in that elusiveness lies the beauty: nature at its enigmatic yet and perfect best. You can almost hear the creative and destructive forces in the sounds.
A steady Northerly was blowing, bringing with it unseasonably warm weather this late in autumn. The cliffs of Ben Buckler Headland protected the tidal area from the wind and allowed for an intimate recording virtually at the level of the water just near where the famous Big Rock or Mermaid Rock sits. If you are after the steady roar of waves crashing and the rumble of a distant wind punctuated with the gentle murmur and gurgle of tidal pools filling and draining in the occasional lull, this recording is for you.
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The sounds from a busy spring afternoon on a quiet Sydney harbor neighborhood beach: The periodic ferry and occasional rumble of a sea plane or helicopter flying overhead. Clanging of boat rigging. Laughter and calls of children. Cicadas. Lapping waves. Birds chirping. The simple sounds that herald the coming of summer in a quiet corner of a beautiful city.
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