Back Story

A Sound Harvest

A. and I spent the better part of a day this week recording snips and bits that will eventually find their way into episodes of Choose to be Curious.  I felt like a gentler version of The Phantom Tollbooth‘s awful Dynne, gathering up random sounds from across the county. My sack bulges with our quarry.


We stood under the canopy, hushed, listening. Around us, countless birds flitted and chirped, mocking our attempts to capture their songs. We’d allow ourselves a cautious chatter and so would they, causing us to quiet, as then did they.

An avian game of cat and mouse.


The chairs, I learned, aren’t actually part of the installation, but they keep appearing. Small children haul the heavy wrought iron furniture over so they can scramble up and call into the stony parabolas.

Eventually, the plaza will be enlarged, the monoliths moved further apart. For now they sit, like enormous books on end, facing one another in the modest square, sharing the secrets whispered into them.


The woman coming down the ramp eyed us with suspicion: two unidentified adults, loitering at the edge of school property, similarly unidentifiable equipment in hand.

“Is this the bell tower that chimes each hour?” I asked, with a smile.

“Yes. Yes, it is,” she replied, relieved. “It’s lovely, actually,” as she moved on.



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