“The sun not yet set, I look around Ómahk for an appropriate location to make a sound recording. The wind is coming from the north. A large, spotted boulder a quarter of the way down from the central cairn attracts the eye and my ear. I’m particularly attentive for low frequency, a kind of rumbling or “thrumming” sound, which investigators at megalithic sites in Europe and the UK, locations such as Stonehenge, say are rich in acoustic resonances, frequencies that have been studied for their trance-like effect on people.
“The prolonged wet of this summer has made the prairie shortgrass long and slender, draping around many of the most prominent stones in a half-crescent. The large spotted boulder I’ve chosen is no exception. I lie on the ground, the top of my head flush with the stone. The world immediately becomes quieter; the rock damps the strength of the northern breeze. And as the wind passes over the boulder, up and around it, swooshing over and through the shortgrass, my head begins to swim through streams of sound—three tones, three pitches of sound all at once. The lowest pitch isn’t steady like a dial tone, but I definitely hear it close to the ground; it becomes the bedrock for a trio that warble and weave, in and out, intertwining with one another; a symphony of the air as the wind gathers speed and then gently subsides.” --excerpt from OLD BIG, Alberta Views Magazine [July/August 2012]