lystn

Bondi Beach is one of the world’s most beautiful city beaches. It is graced with clean white sand, turquoise water, perfect sunrises, and a steady swell for surfers. The Northern Headland (aka Ben Buckler) of Bondi Bay consists of weathered sandstone cliffs that drop right down into the surf. But at low tide when the surf isn’t too large, you can walk among the tidal pools and watch the waves steadily pound and surge up onto the flat rocks that jut out into the bay, forming a point just a few hundred meters from where the sand ends. It is such a popular spot that solitude is hard to come by. But I wanted this to be nature soundscape of Bondi as it has sounded for millions of years; that is, no people sounds. In order to avoid the any human-made distractions from the land, sea or air, this recording was taken in the hours well before dawn with low tide occurring at about the half way point in the recording. The recording is so close to the water that you can sometimes hear the waves surge across the flat rocks and splash just inches away from the microphone.  The mind searches for patterns and meaning everywhere. The chaotic syncopation of a steady surf breaking across the flat rocks of the Bondi headland eludes pattern. And in that elusiveness lies the beauty: nature at its enigmatic yet and perfect best. You can almost hear the creative and destructive forces in the sounds. A steady Northerly was blowing, bringing with it unseasonably warm weather this late in autumn. The cliffs of Ben Buckler Headland protected the tidal area from the wind and allowed for an intimate recording virtually at the level of the water just near where the famous Big Rock or Mermaid Rock sits. If you are after the steady roar of waves crashing and the rumble of a distant wind punctuated with the gentle murmur and gurgle of tidal pools filling and draining in the occasional lull, this recording is for you. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.