Sonic Geography
Bagpipes Blew My Mind My partner Emily and I moved to Glasgow from Toronto a year ago. The first TV shows we saw included a pipe-band championship and a shepherding competition. Both were brilliant to listen to. We thought that’s what TV was going to be here. It isn’t. And aside from the guys on[...] Read more
Bus Ride Home—October Slow, manic whine of police sirens, urgent goose-call of fire engines, anxious “wait for me” of trailing first responders. All muffled under soft falling snow and crystallizing puddles and the breathing of almost three dozen passengers pressed close[...] Read more
First-place Winner, Musicworks 2017 Sonic Geography Writing Contest Childhood has no single place, no secret garden, no single carousel to ride on, nor tree branch to fall from: just hours, that slip away, so similar to music, which has no place either, just passing time it tries to keep up with[...] Read more
Cerro Bellavista Rooftop, Valparaíso When rain falls, it falls into the open-air stairwell unopposed, rattling metal banisters and pattering on tile. Human sounds congeal below you like wet papier-mâché: gentle voices ricocheting around the stucco walls; kids’ laughter bubbling out of an open window; loose[...] Read more
Tom Wayman’s “Elemental Musics: Selkirk Mountains” 1. ARIA Alpine wind in the stunted firs half whispers an austere wistfulness with overtones of regret at being compelled by a harsh landscape to be mercilessly forthright: a breathy flute-note surging and fading[...] Read more
Ocean Bug and Bird Songs BORN CONFUSED. FLY AT LIGHT. Tonight you June bugs pelt my office window in a relentless barrage—desperate wings fanning air that will not hold and tap-tap-tap-tap-tap on the glass. I turn off the lights, sneak outside, guide you through the yard by the glow of my phone. A conductor of[...] Read more
Sonic City We presume hush because business has yet to come. People stand, the movement of feet inaudible Over the creeping perception of noise An indistinguishable hum pervading the acoustic Of suitcases’ wheels Clitter-clattering across cobbled stones Some[...] Read more
The Avian is the Message Songbirds have a secret language. This is something I did not fully appreciate until recently, when I became immersed in their world. What may be music to our ears is bird-speak—a mating call, an aural fence, or simple prattle to stay in touch. There are people who can understand bird[...] Read more
Los Arroyos in Stereo A springtime hike through the hills of the Sierra Nevada, Andalucía, Spain. I follow my guide, Neftali, scrabbling up switchbacks, sweat from the raw sun cooling in the alpine breeze swishing my neck. The hike has been filled with talk. Neftali pointing out species[...] Read more
Shannon McKee's "The Copy Room" As I step into the undersized side room of the middle-school office, I want to remove my high heels. I want to kneel on the thin, brown carpet and touch my forehead to the ugly floor. I want to offer up a soft song. Because when I—a teacher’s assistant for twenty-five twelve-year[...] Read more
Field Notes From Fort McMurray in the damp morning air: rain pitter-patters on whispering leaves. inherited onomatopoeic vocabulary; true but tried tropes carrying with them vague echoes of that singular safety known to the time when board books taught us to affix words to sounds, predictably, repeatably. a wind sighs,[...] Read more
The Blessed Riders of Streetcars in Vienna Streetcars in Vienna are blessedly quiet. The machines—brand new, high-tech plastic platforms—announce themselves on approach with only a slight electric hum. I now react to their high pitch with the same short sprints I used to make to catch the lumbering College streetcar in[...] Read more