We spend a lot of time recording in nature, seeking emotional stillness and beautiful nature soundscapes for you to enjoy. But even when we climb mountains or find hidden pockets of forest, we’re reminded just how rare true “silence” has become. Silence is, in this case, the absence of human-induced sound from drones to cars to planes to actual humans.
This week was the second edition of the Nationale Geluidmeetdag (National Sound Measurement Day) in the Netherlands (an initiative that places our auditory environment under a magnifying glass). Organized by the Dutch Foundation for Noise Control (Nederlandse Stichting Geluidshinder), it’s a call to collectively reflect on something we often take for granted: the presence of sound.
This annual event invites citizens to use the Klankbord app to record the noise levels around them. But it’s not just about decibels, it’s more about awareness.
Recording in silence
Before recording, we always check all the flight paths to ensure we are as little as possible interrupted by planes. But as the image below shows, it’s almost impossible. Also, we should never underestimate the sound that travels up from valleys when you are in the mountains.
On the summit of Monte Primo in Italy, seemingly remote and not that many hikers, nearing sunset, we set up for a recording with a minimum length of 15 minutes. But every 5 to 10 minutes, there was noise…. Hikers who could not decide where to go, a dog, the same hikers again, some last-minute hikers, and then, as golden hour approached, the hikers disappeared, but a private helicopter crept across the sky. We couldn’t see it at first, but we heard it: a low, constant drone that took more than half an hour to fade from the atmosphere. The one time you can avoid planes, you get a helicopter…
In another moment, filming on the edge of a quiet lake, the environment felt perfect, until a woman casually emerged, half-naked, to relieve herself on the far shore. No sound. Just a strange, human intrusion in an otherwise untouched scene. We had to double-check the footage multiple times to see if this happened for real.
We’ve had chainsaws fire up in nature reserves. We’ve had children pop up in the middle of carefully framed shots. But it’s not just the people, it’s also the tech. Drones. Roadworks. Motors on distant roads. And that ever-present airplane hum.
The Urban Echo
In the Netherlands, for instance, there’s almost nowhere you can go without hearing something manmade within five minutes. It is incredible to realize there is hardly a place in the whole country where you can hear only nature.
During our Walking Cities project, designed to capture the energy and emotion of cities through immersive sound, we heard it all and wanted to hear it all: tourist chatter, shopfront speakers, traffic, and the indistinct murmur of crowds that blur into a kind of global urban rhythm. Each city sounds different and has unique sounds, but somehow, especially tourist places, share similar sounds.
Noise or Sound?
There’s no absolute line between noise and sound. It’s deeply personal. A plane overhead might jolt one person from their sleep, while someone living under a flight path barely registers it. City noise comforts those who grew up with it; others find it overwhelming. Likewise, what’s peaceful birdsong to some is an isolating silence to others.
Sound is sensory, cultural, and contextual. But the threshold of noise pollution is real; once decibel levels pass a certain point, even the most beautiful sounds become invasive.
To finish this article, we invite you to stop for a moment. Find a space. Listen not just to what’s there, but to what’s supposed to be. Listen consciously and hear what is there and what is not.
