Monday, August 30, 2010

Making Peace with Inter-Tidal Doughnuts

Yesterday I read an article in The Sun Magazine about "acoustic ecology." Who has ever heard of such a thing? I suspect it will become the next trend, alongside "elf-tear" dish soap and organic plastic (and off-the-grid authors). Anyway, Gordon Hempton is an acoustic ecologist. He travels the world recording "soundscapes." He claims: "Silence is not the absence of something but the presence of everything." He claims that there are less than a dozen places in the United States where one can sit for twenty minutes without hearing noise from some human activity.

Immediately I thought of inviting Gordon Hempton off-the-grid to Haida Gwaii to listen to our silence. Before sending out the invite, however, I thought I'd do a little test. I went to the beach for my daily walk. Immediately, a jet flew overhead emitting a distant rumbling. Next, someone in the vicinity of Rapid Richie's Rustic Rentals Reasonable Rates (RRRRR!) started up a chainsaw. Okay, I thought, two flukes--now let the natural soundscape begin.

Just as I was beginning to enjoy the gentle lap of ocean, I heard the distant whine of a dirt bike. Then another. The grating noise grew louder and louder until they were upon me, waving merrily, as though they'd never heard of acoustic ecology, either. I tried not to wave back and to put my fingers in my ears (as Gordon Hempton suggests doing when confronted by such unbearable assaults), but finally I rose one hand at half-mast, hoping they'd get the hint. They didn't. A few inter-tidal ripping doughnuts later, and they were back, waving even more merrily. I pretended to look at shells even though I was committing a Haida Gwaii sin by not participating in even the faintest semblance of a wave.

No sooner had that roar died down than I spotted the dreaded All-Terrain Vehicle (ATV). It was coming from the direction of the setting sun and I made a run for the dunes before I started pelting the happy driver with rotting seaweed. I began to wonder if our Haida Gwaii acoustic ecology was endangered. I began to wonder if it was always this noisy and I just hadn't noticed until now.This explains everything, I thought: no wonder I'm having troubles writing. Now I can add noise pollution to my procrastination repertoire. I'll add it to my top-ten list that includes kindling splitting, filling the ducks' water containers, outhouse cleaning, petting my cat.

Fellow writers may understand this phenomenon of shaping reality to fit our need to procrastinate. Perhaps a beautiful sunset on the last Sunday of the last week of summer simply attracts humans, and I should just pick up my pen and write despite the state of the acoustic ecology. Perhaps I should write about the soundscape of this Monday night. For the past hour, I've heard nothing but the ebb of the tide, the call of a loon, the gentle fall of raindrops on leaves. Or, as Gordon Hempton would tell me, I've heard everything...

Thank you for reading.

3 comments:

  1. But to hear the silence beyond the natter and din, now that would be inner stillness achieved. Far from my repertoire of important things mastered. Shared frustration at noises expelled from motorbikes, ATV, and jet planes as I sat myself back in time on Haida Gwaii beaches. Guilt filled me and warnings of caution spewed from me as I envisioned the temptation to stare at the sand rather than lift the hand in kindly gesture. Acoustic ecology indeed. It is most when I crave the embrace of absolute silence when I hear it not. What a wonderful story you told in your procrastination, in your inability to write disturbed and taunted by sounds, inevitable sounds everywhere, my friend.

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  2. Thanks for sharing your experience of trying to listen to Haida Gwaii. I've never been but I imagine with some perseverance you'll find a nice 20 minute span of noise-free listening. I followed Gordon on the road for several weeks while filming the documentary about him and can share your frustrations. At each new place we visited I'd think to myself, "surely this place will be quiet..." but by the end it seemed like the sounds of civilization were almost inescapable. Almost. But not entirely!
    If you're curious to see how Gordon comes off on camera, check out my film, Soundtracker... www.soundtrackerthemovie.com

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  3. But to hear the silence beyond the natter and din, now that would be inner stillness achieved. Far from my repertoire of important things mastered. Shared frustration at noises expelled from motorbikes, ATV, and jet planes as I sat myself back in time on Haida Gwaii beaches. Guilt filled me and warnings of caution spewed from me as I envisioned the temptation to stare at the sand rather than lift the hand in kindly gesture. Acoustic ecology indeed. It is most when I crave the embrace of absolute silence when I hear it not. What a wonderful story you told in your procrastination, in your inability to write disturbed and taunted by sounds, inevitable sounds everywhere, my friend.

    ReplyDelete