Radio Lento
Not specifically for children, but each episode features a lovely landscape sound postcards in 3D immersive sound. Best with earphones. Listen while reading, resting or being mindful.
Not specifically for children, but each episode features a lovely landscape sound postcards in 3D immersive sound. Best with earphones. Listen while reading, resting or being mindful.
Created by: Hugh Huddy
Started: March 29th, 2020
Status: Active, 249 episodes
Kind: Episodic
Language: English
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Several miles up the sun-baked track, along overgrown footpaths and through fields high with meadow grass, lie the watery ditches of the Higham Marshes nature reserve. Nestled within the wide expanse of partly farmed, partly inhabited, but mostly untended land that runs along the lower reaches of the Thames Estuary in Kent. On a barmy summer’s day, blown about by a friendly wind, it’s a place of retreat and of well tempered quiet.
Set free from its cradled bowl, the smoke from the bargeman’s pipe rose straight, into the sky. Lighter than air, the burning vapours knew all-too-well where they wanted to go. Up! And so up they went. Unravelling coils of wisdom, racing towards one small window of blue in the vast ashen sky.
Mid-afternoon. June hot. An overgrown track on the Chatsworth Estate, close to the peaceful lakes above the house, between meadows and dense woodland. An abundance of fresh hoof marks. A route used not by people, but by livestock changing fields. Hedgerows scent the quiet air with pollen. Cow parsley, moist nettles, something like aniseed. Nobody is around, so we leave the microphones behind to record, on the trunk of a tree facing straight into the sound vista.
It’s past midday on a late May day in Suffolk and the sun is pouring down onto a calm sea. It’s shining, for the first time this year, with that summer strength that makes you stop, to really take in the moment. It’s perfect, here at the shoreline, not far from where the River Deben joins the sea, the beaches a mix of shingle and soft sand.
A fair April day has dawned up in the hills above the village of Kerry. Nothing’s come or gone yet along the road beside the stream. Nature’s curfew means its dew tinted tarmac must stay empty for a little while longer, to let the stream have its say and give the scattered strands of meadow grass a chance to be blown back into the hedgerows. Silently and invisibly to the ear, the road waits, winding down into the valley through woods and open fields, almost all of the way. Intertwined and accompanied by the music of the stream.
There’s a special feeling that comes with the sound of falling rain. With a sky still free of jet planes, this is how the day unfolds within the secret space of the derelict chapel of Abney Park. It is first thing in the morning, when the birds begin to sing and the trees change from dark shadow into green.
It must have broken through a mist of spring rain when it came, the dawn, the first light of day. It would have come into a watery sky too, one busy with clouds, but full of blossoming spring and still clean, free of jet planes. The birds will have seen it coming, long before. In fine voice they sing from the mid-distance like in a dream, reflected off so many back garden walls. None in this back garden though, with its wide hanging tarpaulin, tumbled stacks of empty flowerpots, upturned planters, and old paint tins. The timpani, for when the rain drops fall.
There’s a point along the promenade at Bexhill-on-Sea where the pull of the crashing waves outweighs the ice cream hubbub underneath the pavilion. Where no matter your age, you’ll find yourself leap from the walkway and begin the short steep shingle scrunching journey down towards the sea. It’s a point, buffeted by a salt-scented onshore breeze, that has no need for sign or marker. No need for a call or shout. A turn-off, from the flat walkway, where you simply follow the invisible tracks of everyone who’s ever been, and fall headlong into your own childhood dream. We saw in the distance a man walking across the beach with his child, a kite bobbing in the sky in front of them. We jumped down. We strode in giant steps steep down the shingle. We followed the old wooden groyne and stopped when it stopped, at the water’s edge, beside the foam fizzing waves. Standing so near to the surf zone we could feel it. The weight of the sea. Thudding the shingle through our feet. How can anything matter in the face of such weight and movement? We could hear the waves rolling in, interlacing, unfurling and breaking. Swooshing in from left to right, pushed by force of current and prevailing wind. This is the sound of longshore drift. The reason the beach is bisected by groynes. We listened, and marvelled, at the gloriousness of the waves as they raced up the beach to meet us.
Created by: Hugh Huddy
Started:
March 29th, 2020
Status: Active, 249 episodes
Kind: Episodic
Language: English
When Chloe is sent off to live with her mysterious and eccentric grandmother she learns an unbelievable secret. Grandma Ivy is none other than Mother Nature herself! And Chloe is next in line to assume to the power and responsibility of the job. Can a twelve-year old learn to balance the entire world’s ecosystem while just trying to fit in at her new school? Only Mother Nature knows.
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