Radio Lento podcast

Night woodland. Sonorous owls. Soft nocturnal breezes catching high in the broad-leafed trees. A panoramic woodland in spatial sound, collected by the Lento box alone.

Always so fascinating to us is how the natural world sounds at night, when there's absolutely nobody about. It's quite difficult to record though in its true resting state because human made noise is audible even from distances of ten miles or more. But here on a calm May night in Big Wood on the Leicestershire-Rutland border the Lento box found it. A forest at rest. Owls calling across wide reverberant spaces. Undulating wind moving high in the trees. And so many aural shadows. Velvet brown, shapeless, and yet there.

Listening to this collected soundscape in spatial audio makes us think, how owls don't sound like they look. Their aural presence is not stark or silvery at all. Their calls are sonorous and have a timbre more like short wooden flutes, blown and tongued with such precision. They sound more golden than silver. The kind of golden green light you sometimes see when a shaft of moonlight filters down through broad leafed trees.

* The Lento box collected this soundscape in May tied to a tree in Big Wood on the Leicestershire-  Rutland border. This location is remote (as far as we can get in the UK) and the sound landscape is predominantly natural, though some distant echoes of human made noise are sometimes heard filtering through the forest. We're sharing this segment as *sleep safe* but some people may not feel it is because of the owl calls. This segment begins about an hour after sunset. Sheep and lambs are audible, and some periods of distant squeaking probably from small mammals living in a nearby tree or in a nest at the foot of the tree.

** The image for this episode is taken from the information board at the entrance to the wood. The wood is managed by the Leicestershire and Rutland Wildlife Trust. The board describes special plants and insects found there, with lovely illustrations.

Last month on the evening of 26 May a huge lightning storm centred over a remote wooded area on the Leicestershire-Rutland border where we had left the Lento box alone to record. From where we were staying about three quarters of a mile away we could see fork lightning. We were worried that our equipment might not survive.

In our last episode (297) we shared the hour before the tumult began. Now in episode 298, we’re sharing a 92 minute segment of what it sounded like to be within the uninhabited forest as the storm passed directly overhead*.

When we were in the woodland looking for a good spot for the mics, the sky was pure blue and the sun was shining down brightly. Soft breezes flowed between the trees carrying scents of cow parsley and sweet smelling vegetation. A perfect early summer's day. As we tied the Lento box to the trunk of an ash tree we had no hint of the weather to come. Torrential rain. Constant rolling thunder. Many overhead lightning strikes. A deluged forest streaming with water but whose resident wildlife rapidly springs back into song.

If you like the thrill of sudden shock thunderclaps this is probably the episode for you but as a general note to all listeners please be aware there are some extremely loud and sudden thunderclaps as well as various other sound quality glitches. This is definitely NOT sleep safe. Please treat this episode as being a sound witness to extreme weather conditions in a remote rural woodland. It's also an opportunity to hear how wildlife sounds change during and after storm conditions.

* This episode contains some shock thunderclaps (most intense at 50m 22s). The soundscape integrity is temporarily degraded when the mics overload. There is also a physical problem with the box itself, a 30 minute long period where the torrential rain gathers high up in the tree and begins to stream down the trunk some of which drips on top of the box itself. The dripping does eventually ease off and the forest returns with all its deluged wateriness back to rich sonorous song.

** For obvious reasons we don't have a photo of the storm in the forest. The image is from the same storm as it headed towards the area where the box was recording.

Last week we took the Lento box to capture the natural soundscapes of rural Leicestershire and Rutland. Our visit coincided with the warmest May temperatures on record and as it turned out the most powerful thunderstorms we'd ever experienced.

On the evening of 26 May huge storm clouds swept into the valley, centering exactly over a remote wooded area where we'd left the Lento box tied to a tree to capture the natural soundscape. An hour later the storm was still directly overhead with ear-splitting thunderclaps and fork lightning. We crossed our fingers that the mics would be alright. We collected the box the next morning. The mics survived but the box was drenched.

In this episode we're sharing the hour leading up to those lightning strikes. Listening is a rare opportunity to experience the sound-feel of being within an empty rural woodland as the trees and wildlife prepare to ride out the on-coming tumult.

Gain full aural immersion of this woodland soundscape with headphones or ear pods. The clarity and spatial reverberances of the spring birdsong. The 360 degree humming created by millions of tiny bees and other insects engaged in their daily foraging. Hear how a small deer picks its way over the leaf litter and pauses right beneath the tree holding the mics. Was it curious about the Lento box? Its footfalls seem to suggest it was. Pheasants can also be heard wandering the forest floor nearby, and mewing to each other in ways we haven't heard before. Baa’ings of sheep and lambs from the surrounding fields echo in the spaces between the trees. As this passage of time progresses towards the 50 minute mark the sky above the woodland has gone from a bright spring blue to the densest of heavy clouded grey. The landscape has dimmed into a premature dusk, punctuated only by intense electrical flashes. It can feel so dangerous to us even from within sturdy buildings, and yet thunderstorms and the way the wildlife respond to them with only leaves and branches for protection are all just part and parcel of life on Earth.

* In the last few minutes of this 62 minute passage of time some owls can be heard hooting shortly after the first major roll of thunder cracks open the rapidly darkening sky. 

** This is Launde Park Wood Nature Reserve, an ancient woodland of 57 Hectares, managed by Leicester and Rutland Wildlife Trust.  

*** Episode 298 shares the next hour. Be prepared, it's one of the most tumultuous hours we've ever recorded!

Here beneath the tree again, at the water's edge. Looking out on Portland Harbour. Left of scene the sunlit parapets of Nothe Fort. Ahead the flat sun-drenched sea, with lazy waves rolling in over half exposed rocks. Right of scene are some small boats, tugging against their moorings. Rising and falling on light swell.

The sparrows seem to like it here. The lazy waves. The peace gathered in around the tree. The distant hum of boats. Traversing the horizon. Lit sharp in the morning sun.

A pair of wood pigeons fly in. Join the sparrows. Perch high on a top branch. Spread their wings in the soft sea breeze, as if to fly. But no. They’re just stretching their wings, to catch the warmth of the sun.

* This passage of time is a follow-on from episode 251. It's part of a twelve hour overnight recording we made in 2023 on a visit to Weymouth. This spot on the rocks underneath the lone tree by the water immediately to the right of the fort, facing out to the sea, is one of the most sheltered and naturally peaceful places we found along this part of the coast. The waves move in a very particular way as they roll in over the rocks. And due to the woodland behind the fort there's rich birdsong too.

** Read the story of how we found this location and explore all eight of the episodes made here.

A soundscene, of an island. Asleep. Between the tides. About this time last year we visited Burgh Island in Devon on the south west coast of England. We made two long-form overnight recordings while we were there. Burgh Island is reached on-foot from Bigbury-on-Sea via a sand causeway. The causeway completely disappears beneath the waves twice a day at high tide making the island accessible only via the magnificent sea tractor.

This passage of time is from the recording the Lento box made in Bigbury-on-Sea, tied to a palm tree facing onto the beach and out towards the island. It's the dead of night. 1am to 2am. Weather conditions extremely mild. Wind speeds very light, 1 to 2 knots. Human activity virtually nil for tens of miles, in all directions, including the entire dome of the night sky. 

The pristine quality of quiet open space in this area enables a crystal clear sound-view of the whole beach and the sea. It's quite a rare thing to witness especially here in the UK. No rumbles in the sky. Not a hint of an aeroplane, anywhere. As if air travel has never been invented. This must be how the world sounded a hundred years ago. The pure uninterrupted high definition sound of a gently shifting sea. Of the tide, so gradually coming in. Of an island, silently asleep, centre of scene.      

* What makes this sound photograph so precious to us is the crystal clarity of the waves and the movement of the waves as they break upon the flat sands of the beach under a perfectly silent night sky. Herring gulls and oyster catchers are occasionally audible but their calls are relatively sparse and there are long empty gaps. If you are able to hear extremely delicate sound you may also hear some tiny mewing sounds to far left of scene. These are the sheep and lambs nocturnally grazing fields further along the coast. 

** You can listen to Part I of this same long-form recording in episode 265 midnight to 1am.