At the Movies: Earthsounds

I spend most of my day alone with my dogs, and while sometimes I need to work in silence, most of the time, I have some music playing softly in the background. At this time of year, it’s Christmas songs, of course. I like to listen to instrumental acoustic Christmas music or a playlist of what I’ve deemed “Mellow Christmas” songs while I work, saving the “Holly Jolly Christmas” playlist for when the kids and husband come home. If my kids catch me listening to the mellow playlist, I’m bound to be mocked.

How can you listen to this stuff? It’s so melancholy, they might claim. But the quiet, meditative music is soothing to me, not saddening. It’s what I listen to when no one else is around.

I’m not particularly interested in philosophical debates about trees falling in forests and whether or not they still make a sound, but I am curious about communication in the wild, when I’m not there to hear it. 

Does the world God made have more to say when human ears aren’t there to hear it? What is creation saying when humans aren’t around—or able—to hear?

Earthsounds

The production crew of the AppleTV series Earthsounds is on a mission to answer that question. To satisfy my demands for answers, they’ve sought the voices tucked away in the farthest corners of the wilderness to find out what they have to say. Each episode visits a different region of the world and ends with a brief look at the behind-the-scenes work the crew underwent in order to reach these secluded places.

The first episode takes place in the rainforests of Australia, capturing the calls of hundreds of species of birds, insects, and frogs and honing in on the murmurs of baby saltwater crocodiles still in their shells. 

In the second episode, the crew travels to the Himalayas in pursuit of the elusive snow leopard, the “Ghost of the Himalayas,” to record the love song between these solitary creatures. In that vast wilderness, the crew picks up the roar of snowmelt flowing into swollen rivers, the crack and tremble of glaciers, the crash and shattering of weather colliding with sheer rock faces. They record the sound of the mountain rivers “as loud as a jet engine,” then are able to find the sound of a mother bird calling to her chick, lost in the din.

Finding the Love: Faithifying Your Viewing

Without the hum and buzz of electronics and the other sounds of an industrialized world, daily life during Jesus’ time would have sounded quite different from the life we live today. 

No one was listening to “Mellow Christmas” playlists on their Apple devices. When the carolers sang, “Do you hear what I hear?” I bet no one answered, “What? I can’t hear anything.”

Without urbanization and electronic interference, birdsong would have been far clearer and more prominent. The wind rustled and whistled through the trees and blew across the desert, unhindered by idling vehicles. Water babbling through streams, rushing through rivers, and crashing on the shore could be heard more clearly without the rumble of engines. Even insects could be heard better, contributing their tune as a constant part of the soundscape.

All of creation is still speaking; we just don’t often have ears to hear it.

But why are they singing? What are they saying?

Sounds, songs, calls, murmurs, chirps, bellows, moans, and more are given to creation for connection. The “courtship calls” of hundreds of species of birds fill the airwaves in the forest. The cicada buzzes and the frogs chirp each to attract a mate so that none may be alone. Across the miles, their soundwaves carry, drawing one voice to another.

It is not good for any of them to be alone. So God gave them all voices—koalas and crocodiles, snow leopards and liar birds, spiders and rivers—to draw those who once walked alone together.

And when those relationships are threatened, God gave creation a different voice, a voice crying out in the wilderness to make straight the way. Creation’s songs of courtship turn to tunes of alarm, warning their fellow creatures of coming threats. In many ways, creation seems to be crying out with one voice these days, nature whipping up intense hurricanes, roaring wildfires, droughts, floods, and freezes, pleading with humanity for a little bit of peace and quiet so that all of creation can get back to the original vision in the garden, to love each other, to be fruitful and multiply.

The songs creation sings seem to testify to the expansive love of God, who created all things for relationship, who created all things to flourish. With the help of some impressive technology, distance, patience, and quiet, we can now turn down the constant din and listen to what the world is saying.
Tune into Earthsounds to immerse yourself in creation’s sound bath. Even the rocks cry out.