Here, a mile outside the village, the volume is much lower than it was there, in the middle of the town. The range of sounds is as wide, but the timbre and source are different. There the sounds were mainly mechanical. Here, a car, horse box or tractor may disturb the calm or, if the wind blows against the prevailing direction, a plane. Occasional helicopters bring sick and wounded from remote western points or return service personnel to base. Before, the helicopters would hover low overhead for long periods using searchlights in pursuit of lost or dangerous souls. 

Here the sounds of sheep and cows mingle with the whinnying and rhythmic hoofbeat of horses. There, the braying laughter of drunken neighbours mingled with clinking glasses over garden fences in the summer evenings. Here we are woken by birdsong, not by foxes. Although the 4am midsummer magpie is no more welcome than vulpine battle cries. 

There is never silence; beneath the obvious lies an undersong if only you care to listen. 
Volume | The Daily Post

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