Deep Sleep

Amoralis

Inner Peace - SabrinaBeatz

Montania

Sochi

Bid to Wonder

Dreaminess

Dusk Sermons

Mane Fluctus

Lux Mane

Flucht

Comfort Zone

August 14, 2022...    forest soundscape at ~ 5 am.   Quiet, still, calm, little wind, dominated by insect sounds typical of this time of year.  Recorder & mics located on the edge of a still pool in Brown Creek, not flowing this time of year due to lack of rain in late summer here.  There actually is a very slight flow of water, which can be heard thoughout the recording.   Photo shows site of recording.  Near the beginning of the recording there are calls of an eastern screech owl.  Later, a few frogs chime in.   This night was relatively cool for August (temps in the high 60°F range).  

In the forest here, this is the the quietest time of the night, 1-2 hours before dawn.  After dawn, the cicadas will start, the wind will pick up and it won't be quiet again until late afternoon.  As night falls, the evening summer soundscape here is dominated by (very loud) katydids, crickets, other insects and sometimes frogs/toads, for hours...   continuing through most of the night until early morning quiet time. 

Recorded with Earsight mics about 50-60 cm apart into a Zoom F3 recorder.  Low frequencies were attenuated and volume was adjusted.  

Headphones recommended (as always).

Arkansas forest in late summer ~ 5 am August 14, 2022

Once a Home is a story about letting go, a soundtrack to a film that does not exist.

Download & stream: https://on.echoes.blue/once-a-home

Written by regular collaborators Antarctic Wastelands & Norvik, it is inspired by how we hold on to things that are dear and important to us - memories, objects, places, people - even after they are gone.

There are times when we must let go, but that doesn't diminish the importance of things of the past. It simply means we have to free ourselves from the burden of their weight, instead allowing ourselves to cherish the memories that remain.

---

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Once a Home

There's a Time for Endings

Stream & download

There's a Time for Endings (with Norvik)

A long soundscape across Dawn in the Queets River Valley rainforest of the Olympic National Park. Starting in Astronomical Twilight, a small herd of Roosevelt Elk walks in from a distance, though a small forest glade, an away towards the Queets River bed.

Early Autumn rainfall and dropping Maple Leaves are the dominant sounds to begin, their pak-pak-spaks are a reminder that time passes, even in the still quiet of a moss-covered forest.

Highway 101 in less than 12 miles away, and distant traffic is funneled up the Valley, showing the difficulty of escaping human-generated sound. This has been mitigated somewhat with light processing, but close listening and inspection will make remnants evident. There are no other edits or processes committed.

I love the crisp cold air of the rainforests in the fall. Sounds, natural and human generated, carry into the distant. Tucked into my sleeping bag, I lay back in my small tent, listening to the forest awaken. Where once there was just the soft distant wash of the river, the elk are joined by the local birds. Steller's Jays shriek their song with grating-yet-amusing "CHA-CHA-CHA-CHAs". A Northern Saw-whet toots in the forest canopy. Young Varied Thrush practice their songs, not quite reaching the beautiful and haunting signature fluting of their predecessors, instead emitting a silly buzzer-bell-like noise. Pacific Wren singing at the end of their season and the occasional Kingfisher make an appearance as well. Noe of these complete with the sheer vibrance of the elk.

Roosevelt Elk or Roosevelt's Wapiti or Rainforest Elk are the largest remaining elk species in North America and thrive in shadowy silences of the Pacific Northwest's temperate rainforests. Bull's bugles and roars echo through the trees, becoming one of the signature sounds of the Olympic Mountains. The cows mew and squeal in return, listening for one another to not wander far astray.

The small herd is a tight-nit family group, a with one, maybe two, dominant bulls, five or six cows in their harem, and a handful of young. The dominant bull leads the group on a daily hike, down from the upper valley to the river and back again. Their bugles urge the group, both signaling the direction to go and scolding those that dawdle. As they pass through the glade, their heavy footfall on the vegetative floor thump-thump-thumps their presence as much as the vocalizations and the continued crushing of vegetation as they push by.

I can't get enough of their energy. They pull back frequently. No matter how many times I encounter them, Elk never cease to awe me.

Click through the comments below for some highlights!

Northwest Soundscapes

Queets River Valley Rainforest Dawn with Roosevelt Elk

Where darkness meets tranquility — "tears of happiness" by instagram.com/id10.ambient x instagram.com/lonelyspirittt is out now.

✨ listen now: https://go.ambiqo.nl/il-tearsofhappiness

ID10 x lønelyspirit - tears of happiness (sped up)

In the memory of the ocean drifts a continent that has dissolved into silence.
Mu lingers as echoes: transparent dances carried by waves, refrains returning like tides.
Each piece is a dream traced in mist, a spiral folding into depth, a voice suspended in water.

To listen is to move with this hidden choreography — gestures rising and vanishing like phosphorescence in the dark.
What remains is purity glimpsed in passing, a resonance that unfolds again and again, never ending, always returning.

The tonal centers of the cycle ascend step by step: F, G, A, B, C, D, E.
It is the skeleton of a Lydian mode — a ladder of brightness.
Yet every piece is minor, shaded and submerged.

The paradox becomes the voice of Mu:
architecture of light, veiled by water.
What should rise as radiance drifts as memory,
each step a fragment refracted through the ocean’s depth.


Ritournelles of Mu follows the clarity of sound shaped by limits.
Each phrase is drawn with restraint, every resonance distilled to its essence.
The music is crystalline, sufficient, exact — a space where nothing is missing and nothing exceeds.

The pieces return endlessly, folding the moment back into itself.
Repetition becomes a form of eternity, and the ocean remembers through these echoes.

Voix

Ambient_14

This Is My Now

Bid to Wonder

Reinstallation Conundrum

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