pandemic, lockdown, dawn chorus, reveil, soundcamp 

It took me so long to get rid of these insufferable modernist reflexes of the added expressivity, built artistry, this chase for the beautiful sonic object, the exceptional, the well found, the deserved expectation, the rewarded patience of the field recordist... Yes, it was supposed to be empty, this was the beauty of it. From this emptiness we were invited to build a superior discourse on sound ecology, noise pollution, everyday sounds, but all I heard was… almost nothing. Nothing to record, nothing to show, nothing to support my new field of discovery. I knew it was good, that this emptiness was at the heart of things, but my ears were too abused by life and sonic memory in order to start getting a grip on things. I turned around; I kept recording and being disappointed.

The weeks passed by, already 5 or 6, and the plain boiled rice started to show its own flavor. The fade was hiding a subtle fragrance. Little by little, the emptiness became calmness. The naked streets seemed cleaner. The midday light contrasts, softer. Before the dawn chorus the air got lighter, fluid, translucent, and generous. The promised silence was rich, tall and healthy. Not empty. Not “nothing”... 

https://theatticmag.com/firstperson/2327/pricked-up-ears.-a-lockdown-listening.html