This soundscape is familiar to me only in a utilitarian sense. There is a gas station located at 67th and North Avenue that is open until 11pm. I often walk there. There is only one sound in this soundscape that I pay attention to on a regular basis. It is what I believe to be colony of tree frogs that live between 64th and 66th Street along North Avenue. They call to one another there, from about late June, until at most early October. I use them as the basis for my labeling this a "natural" location. I have never encountered this call anywhere else in the city. I often wonder, in the midst of all the day and evening activity how they could be there and why. Nature persists.
I chose to walk this familiar path, at an unusual time. Everything along the way is closed. It is very quiet here in Wauwatosa at night, especially on a Monday after midnight.
My route began at my house at 61st and Garfield, west on Garfield to 67th Street, stopping there for a few minutes, then north to North Avenue. East on North Avenue, with a stop at the corner of 64th and North. South then on 62nd Street to Grafield, then east to the beginning.
Attention Shifting
As I walk, the closest, most dominant sounds for me are me. My foot fall on the pavement, the sounds of my right pants leg dragging with each step. The noise my breath makes which each footfall.
Just beyond me is the high sound of crickets. There are the ones that make the continuous chirping, the two legs rubbing incessantly. This sound rises and falls with my travel. More crickets here, less there- pockets. These are punctuated by the other crickets, with their staccato chips rising and ending.
A child cries out loud somewhere on 63rd Street.
The lower hum of traffic is always there, although not a single car passes me on Garfield. Every few houses, there is a fan in a window, humming away. Larger vehicles rumble past to the north and south occasionally.
It is night. As I walk and listen there are many rustling or scurrying sounds in the yards I pass, or the trees overhead. The air is still, yet twigs fall.
With each step, the accompanying dragging scuff of my long right jeans leg. The crackling of sticks and seeds underfoot.
The shifting attention calls out each contrasting sound, especially going from the sustained background to the intermittent punctuated and quiet sounds.
Stopping, listening closely.
Something is digging furiously in the yard at 67th and Garfield.
The close crickets stop their chirping when I hold up.
Another tree branch falls in the street a few yards away and two squirrels chatter. Their claws rip across the bark.
North, far away from me a motorcycle races down the street to the west.
Two cars pass, one in each direction as I stand there for 5 minutes.
There are not many rhythms to this zone. I seem to have stopped where there are no fans or air conditioners. There is, however, the distant background noise of the city. The collection of cars still on the road at this hour.
North to North, East to 64th and sit.
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| Soundscape Map, Tree Frog Zone |
Overall, I am disappointed by my own late arrival for the tree frog colony. There are few frogs left for the season, calling and answering.
I am somewhat surprised at the quiet. I expected quiet, but not such dead, almost country quiet. This is, however mostly a bedroom community for Milwaukee proper. I do not believe that I would find more variation of sounds had I gone to a local park. The crickets would have completely dominated the soundscape, with the leftover acoustic space taken up by late night traffic.
I would like to expand on this city soundscape in further assignments. I also like this particular seasonal soundmark.
