Here are our Top Ten popular misconceptions about nature recordings!

Nature recordings…

1. …are just birdy noises

Well yes, plus insects, frogs, animals, the elements…

Our ancestors knew their place in the world by listening to nature. Scientists speculate that in the distant past, humans first learned to sing by listening to birdsong, and then refined that into spoken languages.

So what have we lost when nature seems just a meaningless background noise? Perhaps we can learn again to appreciate the music of nature – after all, to fully enjoy jazz, classical or any art music, we have to spend time and learn about it.

The more I listen to the natural world, the more complex and marvelous I find it. Not only does each species have its unique songs, some of them extraordinary, but the whole symphony of nature is finely crafted. All the sounds fit together like an orchestra, creating a music that changes continually throughout the day, responding to the weather, and from season to season. Every habitat sounds unique, every place in the world singing its own songs.

The musicality of nature, once heard, will delight you for life.

2. …are new-age

I can understand people thinking this. For the last 30 years, music companies have been pumping out ‘nature CDs’ because they sell (let’s face it, anything will if it’s priced low enough). We’ve heard some truly appalling stuff. Those stories about making a ‘rainforest waterfall’ by recording a bathroom tap? Or taking one bird sample and just looping it in the studio? True. Those kinds of crappy CDs are out there.

Which is a shame, because it not only degrades the work of skilled recordists, but it trivialises nature. Nature is dynamic and alive, and if a recording captures that, you will fall in love with what you hear, rather than move on when you’ve had your fix.

3. …are boring

Pardon? Is our marvelous, living planet boring someone? If nature isn’t interesting, what on earth is?

Nature is universal. Nature is essential to life. There are many ways of connecting with nature, and listening is one of the most enjoyable. The more you listen, the more you will hear. Every one of our recordings is full of diversity and activity. Just grab a pair of headphones and listen for how many species you can hear calling at any one time.

Boredom has been described as a lack of engagement. We reckon that if someone finds nature boring, they’re just not really listening!

4. …are good because one day these species and habitats will be extinct

You’d be surprised how often we are told that our recordings are great because “one day we won’t be able to hear these sounds any more”.

We find this attitude shocking, really disturbing. It expresses an undertone of resignation to the inevitability of extinction. It is a kind of warped affirmation. The more we shock and numb ourselves with the concept of extinction, the more familiar and accepting of it we become.

It also implies that humanity will continue normally as nature collapses around us. That might happen in a Hollywood movie, but in reality, it is actually humanity that is in peril now. Nature is adapting, we’re not.

Our recordings may be useful scientific documents in the future, but that is not why we publish them. We do it because we want to share and inspire. Voyeuring on extinction isn’t a part of our vision.

5. …aren’t sexy

Are you kidding? Why do birds sing? They want to attract a mate! “Come on, let’s fluff some feathers!” Frogs too, and insects, animals… Our nature recordings are full of sex!

But we know – our recordings aren’t the latest hip, cool thing. We’re talking fashion here aren’t we? Which raises the question; is nature really unfashionable? Sadly, that may be true in the mainstream of our culture, and the new-age’s ‘romanticising’ of nature doesn’t help.

We guess our customers must have grown beyond the tyranny of fashion, because for them our recordings really are ‘cool’… Perhaps even a little sexy!

6. …are easy, anyone can make a nature recording

Yep, and anyone can play the guitar too, or piano, or tuba… Like playing a musical instrument, sound recording in the wild is a wonderful pastime. We heartily encourage you to grab a microphone and get out there! You’ll discover a lot more about the natural world than you thought.

You’ll probably also discover that making good recordings takes more than just good equipment; it requires skill, persistence, field experience and a fair dose of luck.

In some instances, it also requires a bit of courage. There have been many times in Asia I have walked alone through dense forest in the pre-dawn darkness, to get on location before the dawn chorus. Bumping into an elephant in such circumstances is not a good idea. On one occasion I found out how quickly I could dump 10kg of expensive sound recording gear and run, when a king cobra slid across the path ahead of me.

7. …are a bit creepy

Its funny, but people who find our recordings a little scary are not usually concerned about elephants or king cobras. They’re thinking bugs. Flies zipping past the microphones seem to inspire images of dark jungles full of creepy-crawlies.

I feel this is largely a fear of the unknown, or at least unfamiliar. The more time I spend in jungles, the more amazing I find them, and the more comfortable I am to be there.

One of the most relaxing experiences of my life was to be in a tropical rainforest in the depth of night. All I could hear was insects chirruping all around me. It was hypnotic, mesmerising, and after a few hours in pitch blackness, I was floating. You can listen to what I heard on our ‘A Walk in the Rainforest’ album, and as you do, think bliss not bugs.

8. …are nice and relaxing

Well, yes, listening to nature sounds is very soothing on the nerves. But to think of nature as only ‘relaxing’ is to limit our emotional responses. Some birdsong is exhilarating, electric, it sends thrills up the spine. The calls of big Woodpeckers in Asia could not be called relaxing listening. The sound of Hornbills flying overhead is awesome. Tawny-crowned Honeyeater song can be sublimely beautiful, and as I’ve mentioned, a chorus of nocturnal insects deeply meditative.

Life is more than just relaxing, and you will find all your emotions reflected in your response to nature.

9. …all sound the same

Really? Purchase more than one of our albums. Compare them, spot the differences. Better still, go out into a wild place, sit and listen as different birds and animals come and go, and sounds change throughout the day. Listen to the vocalisations of one species, and learn its repertoire of calls and songs.

The more you listen, the more you’ll hear…

10. …are a replacement for the real thing

We reckon our nature recordings are very enjoyable. If you are meditating at home and want to create a more natural environment, or travel to work immersed in the sounds of a rainforest, then they are great. With headphones on and your eyes closed, you can easily imagine being out there.

But our recordings can never replace your experience of being in nature. We hope though, that the next time you are out there enjoying the morning birdsong, your album listening will prepare you to hear so much more.

But it is no laughing matter.

Noise pollution like this not only threatens our health with subtle and cumulative effects, it is destroying the natural soundscapes that we are just beginning to appreciate.

I anticipate writing more on this subject in the future, but for the meantime, and as an introduction to this subject, the BBC have an online program that we recommend. If you think that noise is a minor issue compared to the other environmental problems we currently face, think again.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/programmes/globalisation/noisyplanet/index.shtml

It was a sweltering hot morning, and despite arriving early, we were among tens of dozens of people queuing to enter. The entrance fee was around $30 each adult, and the turnstiles were doing brisk business.

We first looked in on the nocturnal house, and our hearts sank. In an enclosure about the size of a largish living room were half a dozen Boobook Owls, blinking in the dim light. These beautiful little owls are found commonly in the Australian bush, and we often hear them calling on our home bush block. Here they were not calling, no cheery “mo-poke…mo-poke…mo-poke”, only silence. The next ‘room’ was even smaller, and held a pair of Siberian Fishing Owls, huge birds for such a tiny space. They could not have had room for flight. Ditto the next; a pair of Snowy Owls, their habitat imitated by an airconditioner.

We were beginning to feel uncomfortable, that we had made a mistake coming here. Next we came to a man-made lake with several dozen pink flamingos. The park brochure touted this as a great backdrop for your wedding photos. Sarah and I had only once before seen flamingos, hundreds of them feeding serenely on a shallow lake at the Rann of Kutch in India. It was one of the most memorable nature experiences we have had. Silent, slow-moving, hardly disturbing the waters, the flamingos were like ghosts on a mirror. Here they squabbled and chased each other. Every bird had its primary flight feathers clipped.

On to the South East Asian aviary. Immediately upon entering the large enclosure we felt assaulted, the noise and smell was overwhelming. After a few minutes Sarah excused herself to wait for me outside. After 2 months in the field, becoming attuned to the sounds of wild forests and photographing wild birds, what we experienced here came as a rude shock.

Firstly, every bird looked disheveled, their plumages dirty, unkempt, sometimes with big tufts of feathers missing. This is common in aviary birds, yet you never, ever see it in the wild, where birds (unless sick or with very worn feathers) look healthy and vibrant, their plumage aglow. Here they looked motley and distressed.

Next: behaviour. I have seen birds of different species chase each other in the wild. The honeyeaters around our home do it, as they are quite territorial and will scud after smaller birds. But what we saw here was utterly unusual; birds of different species actually fighting; feathers flying, lots of scolding and fluttering. I have never seen this kind of behaviour in the field, where each species has its place in the environment and lives in a balance, essentially ignoring other species.

Lastly – and this was the decisive insight for me – it was a cacophony in there. Squawking, scolding, hooting, cackling… where was the delicate balance of sound that one encounters in wild landscapes? Where were the sonorous and musical voices of the forest? Where was the sense of space, that symphony of sounds that makes up the wild soundscapes we’d been recording the last months? It was a continual din in there, without regard to time of day or any organic rhythm.

Truth was, this aviary sounded like what it was – a madhouse. With what we now know about how birds us acoustic spaces to communicate, it is not surprising. Humans get distressed by continual noise, or the need to yell over a din to be heard. These birds were inmates packed into an unnaturally small area, in the company of species they were not adapted to co-exist with. Its not surprising they behaved as if demented.

Sarah and I left, disturbed by what we’d seen and reflecting on the experience. Over the years, we have visited quite a few zoos, some of them with good reputations. But invariably we’ve felt the same sense of disquiet at seeing captive wildlife. This was just the final straw.

So, what have we concluded about the purpose of the world’s zoos? Education? How can zoos possibly teach us about nature? They are not natural. If you want to understand something of nature you have to spend time in it. Quietly, and with your senses open to looking, listening, smelling. Nature lets you witness it when it is ready, and patience is essential. The rewards of finally seeing a rare animal or bird, or discovering some magical insect, cannot be duplicated in a captive environment of instant gratification.

Conservation? I have grave doubts. Captive breeding programs cost a lot of money. I am convinced that if that money were invested in maintaining and developing wild habitat, then all the species dependent on that place would be protected, not just the cute target species. This zoo maintained a small breeding colony of Bali Starlings, a species numbering only dozens in the wild. The specimens here looked as disheveled as the rest, and probably could not have survived if re-introduced into the wild.

Entertainment? Well certainly, judging on the numbers of visitors. Although it depends upon what one finds entertaining. How about the sight of a lone penguin, being walked along the pedestrian pavement in tropical heat, surrounded by a mob of jostling tourists wanting their photo taken holding its flipper?

No. In the end, zoos are about money. They are simply another money making venture. Think about those turnstiles and do some math. Like any business, strategic investment will return greater profit. Hence the most successful zoos often put a lot of money into their exhibits, attracting greater visitation numbers by displaying high-profile species, constructing elaborate habitats, and adding high-tech components into their displays.

In our professional life, we have contributed sound recordings to zoo exhibits. In one recent project, we created soundscapes for all the habitat areas of the newly-opened Sydney Wildlife World in Sydney. Having worked behind the scenes, I have to say that, despite some knowledgeable and caring staff, the enterprise as a whole was money driven. It is about tourism dollars. It has to be, it is a multi-million dollar investment on prime real estate on Sydney harbour. To us, the fact that it seemed more architecture and technology than nature, and ultimately a souless place, possibly explains why it has not been a success, despite its state of the art design, tourism potential and heavy promotion.

After all these experiences, Sarah and I have come to a decision. We will never contribute our work to a zoo again. Jugong Bird Park is the last zoo we will ever visit. We want to experience nature as it is, and share that with our audience. Just to be in a forest where we know tigers live, and NOT to see one, is more fulfilling than seeing a captive animal padding aimlessly around its enclosure while people gawp at it.

On reflection, it seems to us that zoos are also an expression of our own human hubris, our pride. Look at what we can make, all of nature for you to see. But ultimately, being in nature is a humbling experience. At this time in our human history, even more than learning about nature, we need to discover a healthy relationship with nature. For we are a part of nature, not its lords and masters.

In holding nature captive, we diminish our own spirit.