The still luminous sky above the sheer rock cliffs was turning an even deeper shade of blue, as we stepped down onto the wet sand of the beach at Boggle Hole. For a moment we just had to stand. Take it all in. Wide stretches of undulating sand. Half submerged boulders like sleeping elephants. Towering rock faces so vertical and so angled that they catch and reflect every breaking wave, every calling bird, every clack of a dislodged stone, back into your ears, so you hear them for a second time.
The tide's been receding for several hours. We turn right, and walk to find a good spot to record. We follow the band of newly exposed sand along the tidal zone, dodging pools of stranded water. See sea birds swooping, then landing, momentarily. Snatch up a morsel. Then they're up and flying again.
Herring gulls circle high overhead. Black headed gulls pass like projectiles, screeching for the empty air in front of them to get out of the way. Their bold cries caught, and reflected, by the plummeting cliffs of sheer vertical rock. This we know, we hear, we see, we feel, is a rarified place. A landscape of exceptional quality.
It doesn't matter how many hundreds of miles we have to go to find places like this, it's always worth it. Environments where extreme quiet and extreme spatialness coexist, together, for hours. Undisturbed. Uninterrupted. Unspoiled. We found a spot, then left the Lento box on a tripod to record the scene alone, in the gathering dark.
* We made this recording, or more accurately we took this sound photograph of Boggle Hole beach one evening last August whilst staying at the Youth Hostel. It's one of the most spatial sound captures we've made this year. Listen with headphones in a quiet place, and let yourself settle into the passage of time, to let your ears adjust and get the full spatial effect.
