Field recording can be done in the weirdest places, from high mountains to cities. Some 15 years ago, I was in my hometown of Leeuwarden, Netherlands. As usual, there was a street market, although not in the usual place at that time. The space was stretched out and really cramped as they still allowed regular traffic to go through.

Back then, I only had my Zoom H2, a brand-new, wonderful Handy recorder.

Nova Scotia is dry, dry to a crisp. Staying out of the woods and wooded paths is not just mandatory, but also good common sense. Luckily, we also have beaches where we can relax.

I have been posting about beach sounds for a while now,

It's been a while since I last went to the beach. There was always something deciding against it. Most often, that would be the weather. Recently, I bought a set of wind killers. So I went out in windy conditions to try them out. I was less than impressed with the price those things fetched.

Doing everything right, from making sure they were fluffy to releasing them a little from the front of the mics, I always got wind noise.

When we think of a swamp, we think about sweating and mosquitoes. Yet if you listen to a swamp, there is much more to hear than just the droning of hungry mosquitoes. Not too far away from my place, there are some swamps. Some call them ponds, but since you could nearly walk from one end to the other, getting your knees muddy in the process, I think these can be called swamps.

Here in Nova Scotia, swamps do not contain alligators or any other animal that wants to consume you. Apart from some mosquitoes, perhaps. The swamp in this post is close to the beach, giving me some relief from the mozzies.