Radio Lento podcast

Here's something different to accompany this episode - an account of the aural happenings as the passage of time progresses. We collected this soundscape just east of Burnham-on-Crouch in Essex last week on a beautifully sunny late autumn afternoon. The Lento box was tied to a post facing out across the water, pointing at the opposite bank which is Wallasea Island. We sat silently still, in sight of the box and experienced this special place as you do now through headphones. You can as usual just let the soundscape flow over your ears as the passage of time unfurls. Or listen and read along with the show notes below. 0:00Scene begins as a small aircraft brightly lit in the strong afternoon sunshine transits the sky over the estuary redshank fly ina curlew can be heard dead ahead a small boat appears, sailing up the estuary from left to right of scene when the sound of the small aircraft fades away in the western sky (extreme right of scene) the sound of the small boat is more audible as it sails against the flow of the outgoing tide 4:00gulls cry far right of scenea steady breeze blowing in from the east presses against the left side of the boxtidal water gently laps the newly exposed mud and vegetation another light aircraft appears in the east, also on a westerly heading 6:33distant but very distinctive 'crump' a munition is detonated on the firing range ahead and centre of scene (about 3 miles to the south) this is the military firing range on Foulnessmore distant crumps can be heard at intervals sea birds call across the water 8.00wings of a bird swooping in to land bird lands on the exposed mud to the right of the poststeady onshore breeze presses against the left side of the Lento box 9:00a bird that's landed quite near to the mics mid-left rattles at something it's found at the shallow water's edge 11.00the low resonant tone of a larger vessel gradually develops in the east (extreme left of scene) the vessel is sailing mid-stream on a westerly heading inland and towards Burnham-on-Crouchsea birds swoop low over the water soon a heavy crump from the firing range thuds followed by more crumpsthe vessel continues engine humming against the outflowing tide 14:33a jet aircraft traverses the sky its sound soft ten thousand feet or morethe larger vessel is now identifiable as a dredger the sound of the dredger and the jet aircraft meld for a timedistant crump of another explosion on the firing range 16:30the dredger's sound becomes clearer and more sonorous as it begins to draw level with the post holding the box slowly the dredger crosses the centre point of the soundscapemore crumps from the firing range 19:00the dredger's heavy engines move into a more reverberant area of the landscape beginning to thrum the airspace across the estuary like low organ pipesclanks from machinery on decktidal water can be heard gently washing along the vegitated tidal zone about ten yards in front of the post 21:30the dredger is sailing steadily now upstream against the outgoing tidemachinery clanks from its decksea birds call from across the waterredshank, curlew, black headed gulls 22:30the dredger's organ pipe-like drone feels more hypnotic now as it continues on its west heading moving against the outgoing tide towards Burnham-on-Crouch (extreme right of scene) 24:23 captain of the dredger lowers power nearby birds call out in the low afternoon sunshinethe dredger's reverberant drone eases to a chugfar right of scene the barks of a dog 27:14deck crew start to operate a chain mechanismgulls call overheadmechanisms whine the captain begins to maintain the vessel's position against the current in the midstreamtidal water gently lapping to left of the microphone box is washing through the newly exposed beds of estuary vegetation 28:23voices of the crew can be heard operating the equipment on deck 28:56captain powers up the engine then trims back to re-position the vessel in the mid-stream flowthe dredger does its work mac

Cicadas seem to go quiet when the rain sets in. They probably need to keep themselves dry to be able to make their sound. In this landscape recording we made in early August nearly all of the cicadas have stopped by about ten minutes. Then it's just the rain, and the rolling thunder, and the occasional fleeting calls of birds. And, if you are able to hear it, the watery flowings of the River Muga. The day started hot and humid. Nothing but blue skies above the high mountain peaks that surround this remote area. But as the afternoon progressed the skies became grey. Then greyer. Then began to grumble with distant thunder. The thunder is what made us go out with the Lento box despite the threat of heavy rain. With the rain starting to come down properly we walked along the narrow streets of Sant Llorenc, leaving the village walls. We found a tree growing at the foot of the ancient allotments along a rough grassy path next to the River Muga. We tied the Lento box to the tree and angled it. The river is flowing from right to left of scene, about seven or so strides in front. Beyond the landscape rises steeply. Up through dense trees and woodland, and up to a horizon that seems unfeasibly high, marked with dramatic mountain peaks. The Lento box recorded alone. Captured a scene of almost constant rolling thunder and sparkling Pyrenees rain. The sky is free of human made noise, and with only one road connecting the village this area has a sound environment where the natural world is sometimes the only thing that can be heard. ** Support Radio Lento by buying us a coffee, leaving us a review or telling your friends / family / colleagues / network about the benefits of listening to quiet from a real place.

A soundscene of an island. Asleep. Between the tides. This passage of time is from a 2025 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, 2am to 3am. The waves are breaking along the soft sandy beach. The tide has turned. Now it is rising. Weather conditions 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. * What makes this overnight sound photograph of the beach by Burgh Island so precious to us is the crystal clarity of the waves and their movement as they break on the flat sands, under a silent night sky. Being the dead of night and completely dark herring gulls and oyster catchers are still occasionally audible, but their calls are relatively sparse and there are long empty gaps. ** You can listen to other sections of this overnight recording in episode 265 and episode 295.

As the land bakes under the hot August sun, the heat rises and so draws cooler air in from over the sea. The resulting breeze is always fresh, and can flow quite strongly even when it isn't windy anywhere else. And so this is how we found coolness yesterday and relief from the relentless sun, shaded under a patch of woodland that grows by the cliffs and the raging sea below. Along the Suffolk coast a little way on from Felixstowe Ferry is Bawdsey. It's a largely uninhabited rural stretch of coast marked by a huge and now obsolete RADAR station that when we passed by yesterday was sadly not open to visitors. We were walking with purpose, hugging the rough edge of the country road heading roughly north and hoping to get to a Martello tower that we’d not visited before. The sun poured down its heat as we walked. So much of the open ground was yellow. The air smelled of bone dry shrubbery and sometimes of eucalyptus. The road stretched on before we eventually found a post directing us back to the coastal path towards the cliffs and the sea. Through a field growing onions and then along a path with a wire fence on one side protecting a field with a squat looking structure in the middle. The map said it was a ventilation shaft for a subterranean military bunker that like the RADAR station is now also obsolete. Just before the path reached the edge of the cliffs it wound through a patch of woodland. Our footsteps crunching over pine needles and cones, we stood still to listen to the unique sounds that trees make as wind passes through their leaves and branches. Onwards then along the winding path under the trees and out to a wide view of fields and the sea, the Martello tower in the distance. The soundscape here made us stop. Tall plants growing sweetcorn. Countless thousands of long slender leaves waving and rustling. Leaves so long they moved like streamers, tossed this way and that. Tangling and untangling in the breeze. This was the place. We found a tree at the edge of the woodland that looked onto the maize field, and left the Lento box to record. While it recorded we walked back into the woodland and rested for an hour under the kind cool trees. * We are so happy to be sharing this special sound landscape recording as the 300th episode, made only yesterday on the Suffolk coast. We travelled entirely by foot (apart from the ferry across the River Deben), nodding to previous recording locations made early in our Lento adventures for episodes 25, 33 and 70 along the way. We were glad to be back in Suffolk for this milestone episode. ** Thank you for listening. Thank you to everyone who supports Radio Lento with donations, reviews and promotions. All your support helps us to continue to collect high definition spatial recordings from real natural places.

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.