Whenever I have downtime, I try to chip away at the daunting task of going over my old recordings and tagging them for my library. Every now and then, I stumble across a recording that instantly transports me back in time and space to the actual recording session. For this particular sound, it was by far the scariest session I’ve ever had…

I went through a phase a while ago where I would go out at night and more or less randomly explore LA. One of those adventures led me to a pond in the middle of a park. I’m sure during the day it’s a perfectly nice and family-friendly place, but when I went there at night it had transformed into the stuff of nightmares: the place was pitch-black, surrounded by trees and bushes, with not a single soul around (I hope). The bushes were constantly moving back and forth, swayed by the breeze (I hope). The pond was eerily still save for occasional sudden water splashes when fish came up (I hope). Other than the distant drone of LA freeways, the only sounds I heard were the crackling of the bushes and the little splashes in the pond. But what really made me jump was the sudden screech of some animal that sounded like a pained human scream. Needless to say, I got out of there pretty fast. (I’m fairly certain it actually wasn’t human; I checked before I made my way back to my car.)

On a project a couple of months later, I got a chance to revisit that place. I was working on a scene that required the pitter-patter sound of gentle rain on a pond. Nothing in my library really worked, so I decided to go out and record it. As luck would have it, one night it was raining the perfect amount (and if you live in LA, you know that getting any rain is rare enough to constitute actual luck). Not knowing any other ponds around, I went back to my nightmare pond with my field recording kit. Not quite sure what made me think that was a good idea, especially since I didn’t go out until 1am. At least this time I brought flashlights (yes, multiple). The rain had turned the dirt path into a muddy wet mess, so much so that I slipped and fell multiple times. Towards the end, where it got really steep, I was essentially crawling, holding on to the ground and nearby bushes with my hands so I wouldn’t slip back down. By the time I got to the pond, I was drenched in mud and sweat.

Once I had caught my breath I set up my mics. Since I wanted to get the sound of individual drops hitting the pond, I had to get my rig as close as possible to the surface. The only way to do that without risking a nosedive into the water was to set up the stand on the ground of the pond (which, thankfully, is fairly shallow near the edge). Of course, wet soil doesn’t make for the sturdiest surface and the stand was leaning precariously, so I had to hold on to it while remaining as motionless as possible to avoid any handling noise. That turned out to be harder than expected; I constantly had to fight down the urge to turn around and look behind me and to jump at sudden sounds. So there I was: wet, scared, with shivers down my spine and cramps from standing still.

But man, was it worth it! Check out one of the recordings. Unfortunately, even at 2am there still was annoying traffic in the recording, but it responded surprisingly well to drastic EQing: (fellow sound nerds: see below for technical particulars.)

On my way out, I fell once again and slid a good amount downhill, losing one of my flashlights in the process. Surrounded by darkness, I fumbled around my bag to get out my backup flashlight. When I finally turned it on, I saw a gigantic spider a mere foot away from where I had planted my butt. I swear I’m not making this up.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy to see my car. (I was considerably less happy the next day when I had to clean it.) And I got another recording! Just some rain on leaves and crickets:

Overall, this was definitely one of my most memorable recording sessions ever. In hindsight, there probably would have been easier ways to get a similar recording, but none as frightening and fun at the same time.

Tech Details

I recorded with my usual MS setup consisting of an MKH8050 and MKH30. It’s interesting listening to the mid and side channels separately; the mid picked up mostly drops on pond (since that’s what it was aimed at), while the side mainly consists of crackly rain on leaves from the bushes around the pond. For rain protection, I used my Rycote Windscreen with the fur on and a couple additional towels wrapped around it. I’ll probably get some Hog Hair next time, but the towels work well enough for now. But the real winner of the session was my field recording backpack. It performed admirably in very adverse (read: wet and dirty) conditions. Couldn’t be happier with it. Of course, I still have to clean it…