Although my ideal is to make and share nature recordings free of anthropogenic machine noise, I'm not averse to sitting through first light and dawn in natural places that I know very well will be noise-polluted - simply because I want to hear (and record) dawn choruses in such places, even if I will never, or rarely, share such recordings publicly. At different places, and at different times, dawn choruses are always quite different. Despite intrusive and discordant noise, I still want to experience and to hear what the birds and other animals will say (express, manifest) in such places, and how that will sound in each such physically different space. I feel that I owe them the respect and the effort to set up my recording gear, settle down, and listen and record through the darkness into first light and dawn. I don't wish to avoid, ignore or spurn them just because they have no choice but to exist and to  live their lives in the midst of abrasive human noise. To the contrary, I feel it's deeply important to experience, acknowledge, and respect their lives, their lifeworld, the reality of their way of being, precisely because they are not fortunate enough to live freely and naturally, there where they are and must be. Before I leave, after sunrise, I always thank them, and apologise to them for what the species to which I belong has inflicted upon them (and upon itself), and pray for their future protection and well-being.

This, then, is one of those rare occasions when I have decided to post an excerpt from just such an attended dawn recording, mainly because I find it fascinating and informative, and amusing. To my mind, it provides yet more evidence that Blackbirds (which aren't native to Australia, but released here by English settlers) and native birds don't really get on very well. The conflict or competition is not physical or violent, but expressed through 'voice' and creativity. In this instance, the Blackbirds seem to be ousted and chased away by some extremely vocal and virtuosic Grey Shrike-thrushes. (I should point out that I don't think of what birds do with their 'voices' as 'song' or 'music'. I think that such a notion is merely a somewhat fanciful human interpretation and imposition.)

Another, lesser, reason for posting the excerpt is because it is another exploratory mid-side recording (with a super-cardioid mid mic), made in parallel with an ORTF recording (with a pair of cardioids), which hasn't been posted, here.

2025.11.12 Dawn at Cudlee Creek. Spring. (Excerpt. Mid-Side.)

Ongoing experiments, tests, and comparisons involving field recording gear and rigs, made for my personal practical experience and use. In case they might also be helpful or useful for other field recordists, I will be posting them here.

𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔯, 𝔞𝔰 𝔞𝔫 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔞 𝔐𝔬𝔡𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔇𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔅𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤.

2025.11.12 Dawn at Cudlee Creek. Spring. (Excerpt. Mid-Side.)

𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘