The Art of Listening to the Sounds of Nature

1 / 13
Red squirrels can be chatterboxes as they play. They’re also known to scold each other (and humans!) with a chrrr sound.
Red squirrels can be chatterboxes as they play. They’re also known to scold each other (and humans!) with a chrrr sound.
2 / 13
The rapid drumming of the pileated woodpecker can be heard throughout much of the United States and Canada. Its call is a loud cuk-cuk-cuk, which rises and falls in pitch and volume.
The rapid drumming of the pileated woodpecker can be heard throughout much of the United States and Canada. Its call is a loud cuk-cuk-cuk, which rises and falls in pitch and volume.
3 / 13
The distinctive mating calls of the great horned owl can be heard from December through February.
The distinctive mating calls of the great horned owl can be heard from December through February.
4 / 13
The ghostly squeaks of the bull elk are eerie sounds, especially when you hear them at night.
The ghostly squeaks of the bull elk are eerie sounds, especially when you hear them at night.
5 / 13
Known as the whistle pig, the groundhog puts out a surprisingly sharp sound when alarmed.
Known as the whistle pig, the groundhog puts out a surprisingly sharp sound when alarmed.
6 / 13
The familiar wonk, wonk of the Canada goose is a sure sign that autumn has arrived.
The familiar wonk, wonk of the Canada goose is a sure sign that autumn has arrived.
7 / 13
Listen for the summer sound (CHICK-bree) of the scarlet tanager and hopefully you’ll be able to spot the brightly colored bird as well.
Listen for the summer sound (CHICK-bree) of the scarlet tanager and hopefully you’ll be able to spot the brightly colored bird as well.
8 / 13
The pretty call of the wood thrush can be heard at dawn and dusk in spring throughout the eastern half of the United States.
The pretty call of the wood thrush can be heard at dawn and dusk in spring throughout the eastern half of the United States.
9 / 13
The tufted titmouse is one of the more vocal birds in winter throughout suburban yards in the Midwest and eastern United States.
The tufted titmouse is one of the more vocal birds in winter throughout suburban yards in the Midwest and eastern United States.
10 / 13
A pond full of spring peepers can sound like bells jingling.
A pond full of spring peepers can sound like bells jingling.
11 / 13
The katydid’s rhythmic call starts in late summer and picks up as fall arrives.
The katydid’s rhythmic call starts in late summer and picks up as fall arrives.
12 / 13
Hear a snowy tree cricket and you can calculate the temperature. Count the number of chirps in 15 seconds and add 40 to determine the temperature in Fahrenheit.
Hear a snowy tree cricket and you can calculate the temperature. Count the number of chirps in 15 seconds and add 40 to determine the temperature in Fahrenheit.
13 / 13
The coyote intermingles yips and yaps among its high-pitched howls.
The coyote intermingles yips and yaps among its high-pitched howls.

It’s true that we humans tend not to see the forest for the trees. To an even greater extent when we’re outdoors, though, we fail to hear the forest for the seeing. We let our eyes be our guides when sounds of nature, not sights, often provide more information about the life around us, most of it hidden or too distant to see.

The rush of shifting wind through treetops. The gurgle of stream water tumbling over stone. The hmmmm and bzzzzz of insects. The piercing call of a faraway bird. These are only a few of the sounds of nature. Some are constant; others fleeting. But all are components in a symphony that is not merely unfinished but perpetual, playing night and day. It is a work ever-in-progress worth listening to, carefully. Nature sounds not only soothe our civilized souls, but also tell tales of their makers’ lives.

Hush Up and Listen to Nature

You’re not likely to hear?—?or for that matter, see?—?wildlife unless you force yourself to take time out from whatever you’re doing outdoors and just sit still, for cryin’ out loud. All too often when I am outdoors the most dominant sound in my ears is the clump-clump-clumping or crunch-crunch-crunching of my own rambling feet. The sad truth is, we humans are a noisy, restless lot. What do most of us do in the great outdoors? We hike, we bike, we fish, we camp, we canoe, we rock climb, we move?—?almost constantly, and seldom silently. Most of us also carry another kind of noise into the woods with us from civilization: that infernal inner voice nagging us with everyday worries and jangled nerves.

All of that has to go. Remaining still and quiet and actually paying attention to audible nature is an ear-opening experience. But it’s not one that comes to us easily. And here’s the hardest part: You can’t just stop, listen to nature sounds for a few moments and then move on. You have to give the process time?—?time for you and your gotta-move human nature to settle down and truly tune in to sound, and time for the creatures around you to recover from the alarming cacophonous crashing of your arrival.

  • Published on Feb 22, 2008
Comments (0) Join others in the discussion!
    Online Store Logo
    Need Help? Call 1-800-234-3368