Breezy Listening

Music is on the air. And coming from everywhere.

We’ve just tipped past “peak fall” here in Iowa and the birds starlings that sound like the backing track in Ring My Bell have returned to the alley to serenade our cat. Bewwwwwwwww—Bewwwwwwwwww.

It’s a beautiful bird call but also funny now that we’ve made this connection— and we can all use more beauty and laughter right now, right? Bewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww…

The cool down in the air has ushered in our all-too-brief Season of the Open Apartment Window. In high summer it’s too sticky and the air smells too much like hot wet dog food around here (and anyway we just really love having central air for the first time in our adult lives- THE LUXURY!!!). And in like 48 hours the region will plummet into 6 months straight of skin-ripping-ice-air. So we’re relishing in the tender brevity of a fresh indoor breeze. And all the sounds that drift in on it. Like the birds. And the train.

Since we moved to the railroad tracks side of town, I’ve been obsessed with catching a clear recording of the train whistle— which, to the best of my figurin’, blares out at a big B-flat. But, unlike passenger trains, freight trains don’t publish a schedule. You just have to be ready. As someone who over-prepares for everything at all times and lives surrounded by recording equipment, you would think I’d managed to catch it by now. But not yet…

Did you hear? B-flat is also the lowest note in the universe.

And, as I recall, it’s also the note we tuned our flutes and other “wind instruments” to in middle school band.

Wind Instruments!

So, when the weather turned and we had our first big 30mph wind gusts kinda day, Neon & I were out taking our regular walk by the river when we encountered the coolest mystery…

A haunting flute melody suddenly plays directly to our right across the river wall. Nobody else is in sight. We look at one another grinning like wtf?? and both spin around in little circles looking for the source. It stops. There’s nobody. We laugh. It starts again— with the next gust of wind.

We realize: It’s coming from a pipe labeled “567”…

THE MAGIC. THE MYSTERY!!!

When I tell you that I love a good niche information deep-dive, you probably already know this because that’s often what this newsletter and/or talking to me on any random day is like. But this one has been soooo goooooood!

Figuring out what pipe 567 is and how it makes its melody has thoroughly enchanted my Google-mancy for the last few weeks and I’ve learned a lot about sluice actuators and midwest dam mitigation in the process. We also managed to get back out on the next 30mph wind day with the good microphone to capture its mournful tune in full dynamic glory…

I sense this is becoming a much bigger project.

Perfect.

Until then—

A prompt for you…

What symphony surrounds you where you are? When the music stops and the teevee’s off and the TikTok runs dry and it’s you and the atmosphere, what’s there? See if you can name the instruments. The players. Notice the mood. The energy. If one day of ambient audio in your life was a song, what would the song be called?

xo,