in one of bradford’s many decommissioned wool mills. a big hole in the roof, and wild creatures living in the rafters. none of the closeup sounds here are human in origin.

possibly the quietest recording so far on this blog—the “silence” of our garden at 3.45am. if you listen carefully, you might just hear the sounds of snails munching on the garden’s vegetation!

early sunday morning, back in thornton cemetery—this time at the west end of the long, straight, grave-lined avenue known as “the prom”.

thornton cemetery is more park than cemetery, and the prom is one of the few areas containing graves. i was thinking i’d be the only [living] human being around so early in the morning, but i was mistaken.

i love the way the hard tarmac surface subtly transforms the acoustics here.

grass wood nature reserve, upper wharfedale.

5.45am in our garden.

i originally set up the mics to record the dawn chorus, which was well underway some distance down the hill, and couldn’t believe my luck when our local avian sonic artists—the starlings—turned up just at the right moment, making an amazing array of sounds. they’ve just added a couple of new impressions to their repertoire, now imitating moorland birds and house sparrows.

inside a barn, on a farm near the little hamlet of moscow, thornton heights.

a very windy easter sunday afternoon. easter celebrations were going on in the nearby farmhouse, but the empty barn was making plenty of sound of its own, aided enthusiastically by the wind.

thornton cemetery, around 4pm—nightfall.

the birds are settling down for sleep in the trees, the cars are making the mad dash for home on the surrounding roads, and my dogs are paddling around in the dead, rotting leaves on the ground.

our kitchen sink has been making some strange sounds recently. well, maybe the sounds themselves are not so strange [just yer average plughole sounds, really], but the “compositional structure” has been quite unusual and forceful. running even the tiniest amount of water down the plughole has been resulting in the type of music you hear here.

coincidentally, as i was making this recording, the first snow of christmas began to fall outside.

not by coincidence, a couple of hours later, the kitchen floor was flooded with water.

i am not a plumber [as you can probably tell]. if i was, i’m sure i would hear these sounds very differently.

doing some composition [applying a probability system, to be precise], using pencil-and-paper technology, at 4am, with a strong wind blowing outside.

a mild midwinter afternoon in our garden at the top of this steep hill.

as usual, the starlings on the roof are the stars of the show.