A low tide and a flat sea and barely a star to sail her by... it goes something like that. This time our industrious recordist woke in the wee-small hours in order to get to their chosen location at the prescribed time. The prescribed time was before sunrise....  
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The Harbor for Fort Bragg, California is in the mouth of the Noyo River. It is a small port, but large enough for some fishing boats, expedition boats and some good seafood restaurants. The hills around Fort Bragg have been logged for over 100 years. As a result there is a good set of, fairly well developed but not well used logging roads that criss cross hither and yon. One of these roads runs alongside the Noyo River.

One dark night our stealthy recordist carried all of their gear about a mile up this road to a place where a bridge crossed the river. They set up the mics in the center of the bridge facing up stream.  
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The rosy glow of a late summer sunset folds into the lilac & deep purples of dusk. Almost like water the transformed light flows through the open windows and mingles with the radiance of the single candle in the room. In the stillness of the evening a lone person floats through the room, bobbing and spinning in a slow quadrille..  
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It was bound to happen. Gerluz is acquiring a taste for playing in ensembles! Here Gerluz is performing with members of the Nouveau Guinea Ensemble in the piano quintet "Untitled-40."  
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A cool morning full of promise. Ah, but the coffee tastes good. come on out to the back porch and watch the day begin underneath the the cherry trees  
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It clatters, it shakes it rattles and pops. The Old Jalopy comes sauntering down the street in a cloud of dust and a rhythm that make you think it might have the hiccoughs. It is a racket and a hazard and an eyesore to our town. But it owned by old Ms. Primbottom who has been driving it for 95 years and isn't going to stop now!

Yessir, all of the children come running and the cats scat in fear when Mrs Plumbottom and her jalopy shimmy down the street 'cause it's a little bit like a circus parade all by itself. One of the rear fenders is doing acrobatics, the radiator blows steam and her Jack Russel Terrier named Archie is bouncing all over the back seat barking at everything he thinks is a squirrel... and he has bad eyesight and a good imagination.  
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Put another pot of coffee on the boiler!
  Have yourself another cup of joe.
Then keep on drinking until your nerves are a tingling
  and your foot just cant stop tapping the floor.

Some folks drink it with some sugar
  Some use cream to lighten it up
I don't care
  if it's dark or if it's fair
just make sure there is some coffee in my cup!  
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She's sweet as the sunshine and bright as the day
Whenever she smiles, the clouds all go away
Here in my arms she forever will stay
Song of my heart, she's my Latin Bouquet  
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You've had one of those days... sitting at the edge of a stream... dipping your toes into the water and swishing them around. Maybe you were just laying on a lawn somewhere. Not really doing anything, not thinking any sort of burdensome thoughts.

You may not have noticed, but on days like that, birds begin flying in tandem, bees synchronize their buzzing so that they buzz in harmonies and even some cats become friendly. OK, maybe I am stretching it with the bit about the cats.  
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The ocean speaks in a thousand voices, Sometimes it roars, other times it whispers and yet others it sits there and waits for you to say something first. On the day our perseverant recordist was there the ocean was speaking fairly strongly. The recording was made by Big Sur, California. Right where the Big Sur river meets the ocean at Molera Point. The recording is about ninety minutes long with the apex of high tide occurring just about smack dab in the middle.  
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Frogs have an interesting culture. They may not produce as many scientists as, say, newts... but they can jump much farther and are known to be better dancers. Frogs are pretty good singers too. ...As long as you keep them away from Puccini, there is nothing quite like a spontaneous frog chorus.

On a lovely spring day our valiant recordist hauled their gear into the depths of Henry Coe State Park, east of Gilroy Ca. The amphibious serenaders were out in force and making such a racket that the local scrub jays were having something to say about it.  
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Gort Braggern synthesizes the anthem to the upcoming technological "Singularity!"

The are many concepts of the upcoming "Singularity." Here Gort is focusing upon just one: the moment when humans will be able to "upload their consciousness" into a machine. Sound like fun, eh? Just think of it... no more soggy toast!! To stay true to the spirit of the song, Gort assures us that no human vocal cords where used in the recording of this tune.

The future's here at last
  upload your mind.
Neurons are the past.
  Singularity  
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