Radio Lento podcast

The Lento box records alone, tied to a tree, behind thickets of gorse. The night hours pass. The microphones capture the panoramic peace of this wild coastal landscape. Rye Harbour Nature Reserve on the East Sussex coast. The tree holding the mics overlooks one of the many small lakes across the reserve. In daytime these bodies of water mirror the sky, and provide different types of wildlife with a calmer place to be compared to the nearby sea. 

This passage of time is somewhere between 3am and 4am. Nothing is visible in the thick darkness but the soundscape is spatially wide, empty for periods, between waves of delicately detailed nocturnal bird activity. Mid left of scene, about half a mile in the distance, you can easily hear the sea. High tide is several hours away. The lake is dead ahead, and for the first thirty minutes remains silent because there is hardly any wind. To right of scene the inland landscape is mostly quiet, except for a hum that's floating across the fields, from what we guess must be some distant industrial buildings. 

Being mid-February the peaceful air does not last. A squally weather front moves in at 30 minutes. It brings persistent rain. Rain that sifts down in changing textures. Rain that sparkles as it lands on the still lake water. Unwitnessed moments in time captured perfectly by the microphones.

Exposed moorland trees create a strong natural source of undulating white noise when shouldering the brunt of a winter gale. The sounds they produce are uniquely enchanting  and an absolute delight to experience. For us it's the beating heart of what it is to be immersed in the great outdoors, and one of the reasons we set Radio Lento up in the first place. To capture and share the aural essences of the great outdoors for anyone (including ourselves) who want to experience but can't always get out to feel time passing in a real natural place. 

The sound-scene in this recording is entirely produced by trees in wind although at the very start there are a couple of tawny owls. Using headphones you will perceive the scene in its full panoramic width and depth. From far right of scene a line of trees (mixed fir and bare branched deciduous) grow along a ridge that descends into a meadow whose upper boundary aligns with the centre of the scene. From the centre the open meadow then slopes away and down the moor mid-left of scene. Far left of scene another ridge with higher elevation is visible to the ears, more thickly wooded, and despite being much further away generates deep brown turbulences as the wind grows in strength. As time passes the interaction of the ever-changing banks of wind blowing through the arrangements of trees builds and builds, creating a kind of vision of the place all-be-it entirely perceived through spatial hearing.

It was well after eleven at night at the very end of December when we headed out to find a place to leave the Lento box to record. The weather conditions were fresh and extremely dry. Not a hint of moisture or damp anywhere. The whole landscape was in the grip of a powerful winter gale. A Derbyshire gale, a thousand feet above sea level. Every twig and every fallen leaf was audible, sifting and shifting in the brisk turbulent air. As we descended below the treelined ridge we felt the depth of the sound being produced by the trees. Not quite a roar, more like a soft low rumble, sensed less through the ears than through the body. We found a tall fence post, and then left the box to record the gale as it blew through the whole night. 

* We made this recording in High Peak Derbyshire, December 2023 a couple of days before the year turned. This passage of time is from around 5am, just before the cockerel starts crowing in the nearby farm! The weather conditions were incredibly fresh and dry which is why the trees sound so clear and defined.

The waves settle into wavelets. The wavelets settle to calm. Then it's just the pure sound of estuary emptiness, at night.

Following on from episode 288 it's several hours later, about 4 in the morning, and the tide has finally turned along the exposed seawall opposite Wallasea Island.

The soundscape captured conveys the aural essences of this beautifully exposed and empty place. Near-scene the movements of tidal water. Mid-scene the occasional calls of hardy sea birds flying low through the night air. To right of scene the distant low hum of a bulk carrier ship, recently arrived, waiting in port to be unloaded.

The night before we'd scouted the area and tied the mics to a railing well above the high water mark. However due to a combination of tidal surge and a spring tide, the section of railing only just remained dry. Luckily the Lento box survived to capture a uniquely fascinating sound. The intricate and changing movements of estuary water, close-up, against a backdrop of pristine estuary quiet.

* We made this recording in August 2021, after discovering the River Crouch and the estuary landscape around Wallasea Island. The weather conditions were unseasonably rainy and windy at the time which has made these rain-free sections of the 12 hour overnight recording seem even more special.

We love the ambience of Sant Llorence de la Muga, a small village high in the Pyrenees. It's a beautifully peaceful place but we know the sound of the bells every quarter are not ideal for those wanting to spend time with the rain, the open peacefulness of mountainous quiet, and the occasional beeps of what we think are nocturnal frogs. So, this passage of time is from episode 281, adjusted. 

With the chimes carefully spliced out, this piece of captured quiet runs from just before 3am to just after 4am. Heavy rain begins to fall and the sky grumbles with thunder. The rain then eases off allowing you to hear beyond the distant white noise of the nearby shallow river and deeper into the night landscape. You may hear to the right of scene one and sometimes more tiny beeps from time to time. We think these are frogs. The sounds are both soft and yet very distinguishable in the soundscape. And comforting too, for some curious reason.

Welcome back to Radio Lento and a new year of captured quiet from natural places. It's so good you are here.

To open 2026 we're heading back to rural Shropshire which we visited last year thanks to a listener recommendation. We found so many perfect places on this trip in May.

Remember almost every Lento soundscape is made when there's nobody about, not even us. What you hear is a fully authentic passage of time recorded in high definition spatial sound, ideal for headphone or Airpod listening. Each recording is captured using a one-shot true-timeline method and through the same device, the Lento box, which we also call our sound camera. Our aim is to capture long-form sound images that let you engage as directly as possible with the landscape, so it speaks for itself, without us or anybody else to get in the way. And wildlife does sound better when there are no people about.

The exact location of the Lento box on this recording is Poles Coppice, a nature reserve surrounded by farmland and grassy moors. We gave it #LentoApproved status. It's spring. Weather conditions are fair. Wind very light, just 2 to 3 knots, with occasional gusts of 10 to 15 knots. Wind gusts can often be heard sweeping through the oak trees, from left to right of scene. When this happens you really get a sense of the physical space around you (especially if you are listening on headphones or Airpods).

* This passage of time begins with the last few fragile moments of night quiet. Then the very first bird of the new day begins to sing. Gradually, as time passes and the sky grows in luminosity, more birds start to sing. After about 15 minutes the dawn chorus is underway. It continues over the full 75 minutes of this episode segment, shifting and changing in pace and intensity. It's subtle and interesting how the changes blend into one another, and happen almost like movements of a symphony, though we aren't that keen on imposing human ideas onto the patterns of nature. We can't talk to birds and ask them what they are singing and why, but we can apply our human ability to bear witness to this amazing phenomenon without interfering or disturbing it.