The Lay River’s Midnight Song

On a foggy Christmas Eve in 2024, I slipped out of our cosy Airbnb in the tranquil village of L’Haumondière, nestled near Le Boupère in France. The world felt hushed under the weight of the misty, humid air, as though holding its breath in anticipation.

Approaching the swollen Lay River, I found a small concrete bridge, a sentinel over the water’s restless journey. Beneath its arch, I carefully positioned my microphones, letting them listen to the symphony nature had composed. The river surged with purpose, its current twisting and tumbling over the gnarled remains of a recently fallen tree. The interplay of water and wood produced a melody of flowing rushes and gentle, rhythmic echoes, bouncing off the bridge’s cold, stony underside. It was as if the river itself was telling a story, weaving threads of sound into a serene, unbroken narrative of motion and stillness.