When you take the ferry between Halifax and Dartmouth, you are always above the water. No sound from below ever reaches your ears. So I went out to get that sound from underwater.

Swimming and diving is not permitted close to the ferry terminals, so there was only one thing left to do.

A while ago, when it was still warm and balmy at night, I was trying to relax in my backyard. So, I prepared myself and sat in my comfy chair on the deck, only to be nagged into action by a visitor.

The visitor in question didn’t speak my language but made it clear that I had to do something and not just sit there with a drink in my hand.

Streaming in the old-fashioned sense. Recently I acquired a pair of Clippys. So the first thing to try them out was on bird song in my backyard. But by now, most of the birds have left the province for warmer climes, and I am left with a few crows and some House Sparrows.

And even they don’t want to talk to me. So I had to find a different source of sound. A stream, not too far away from my house was my next target.

I haven’t been in Halifax for leisure a long time. The boardwalk seems to have been finished for now, no more cordoned-off parts, everything is there. There are even a handful of new art installations.

Now I am not an artsy guy to begin with, it takes a lot of effort to get me excited about anything art.

The title sounds like the one for the Opera, but this was way more relaxing. So I went to the beach, big deal. When I arrived there, hands in my pockets, I was surprised by the acoustics of the area.

So I went back to the car and picked up my gear.

Often, we encounter a soundscape that just begs to be recorded. Big surf after a distant storm is one of those. With our ears, this sounds so amazing that we can even ignore the wind gusts and enjoy the fresh air and waves crashing on the rocks.

In movies, we hear waves that are clear and distinct, crashing on rocks or on a sandy beach. But do we really hear that in nature?