Mission: Collect a high quality digital stereo sound recording of the Brimley's Chorus Frog (Pseudacris brimleyi)
Destination: Bald Cypress and gum tree swamp near Ernul, NC which is 10 miles north of New Bern and the Croatan National Forest.
Chase: After a few emails, a screen shot or two from Google Maps,
I began watching the weather, and the family calendar for overlap, and the day after my source sent me the coordinates, the gear and boots were packed in the minivan. I'd be chasing the back edge of a cold front, staying with the last bands of showers from the Piedmont, to the Coastal Plain near the Croatan National Forest. The windshield wipers were needed as far as Greenville, NC, and the light rain while usually good for frogs, is not so good for microphones. Temperatures were in the low 50s at the start, and then would dropped to around 40 degrees Fahrenheit by midnight. Warm enough for frogs to call.
The trophy, in addition to the pic or two below, is this sound recording:
Brimley's Chorus Frog recorded in Craven Co. NC 2-19-13. The first 20 seconds of this cut have more distant Brimley's and Peepers calling, so leave your volume settings at normal levels, because he'll let you know of his presence! This is actually just a short segment of several longer recordings. The originals have a good bit of mechanical machine noise -- think wood chipper the size of a school maybe?
--my lifer P. brimleyi
The frog pictured was found in a swamp of gum trees and bald cypress, where the water was like tea and chilled to maybe 50 degrees or so, and mostly less than 2-3 feet deep. Notice how the frog is up against the tree trunk, easily missed with even a strong flashlight, What gave it's position away, was the changing reflection off of the pulsating vocal sac as it called. I spent the most time getting incrementally closer to this individual frog, and the recording is of the same. The trick is to get an initial sound recording, one which might be a little further away than is ideal, and then in steps trying to get closer, and closer while recording again and again. The closer you are to the sound source, the stronger the target sound, and quieter the background noise. And yes, there was background noise!
Sound Recording Narrative:
In a swamp near New Bern, NC, nearing midnight, looking at the reflection of clouds racing in front of the moon through the silhouettes of gum and cypress trees, this is where I stand, poised and studying the base of a cypress tree, where the bark meets the tea-like water of the swamp.
Knee high in hip waders now for almost 4 hours, and I have seen it, and seen it close. I've recorded it from within 4 feet with a stereo pair of microphones an a digital recorder. 48 kHz, and 24 bit digital clarity @ 40/1 dB signal to noise. It is loud enough now to distort in the ear, but it is still in the presence of the behemoth The near is not the monster, but the inch long enigma, the sleek brown, stand black camouflaged reward in this quest. The Brimley's Chorus Frog (Pseudacris brimleyi)
The behemoth, the monstrous beast which churns and shakes without stop, emitted an orange glow from the east, two miles away. Its roar is fierce and inescapable, and depending on the winds, it's breath will carry for miles and miles. I was told by a local source, that "all I will know of it is its smell" -- and a truth perhaps to one who maybe has lived with it, or become accustomed to, or consumed by it in their day to day. But I should have known that such a thing will do more than smell even at 2 miles plus in distance away. A sound recordist* knows more of the world's noise than a non-sound recordist ever will --and from tonight, I now know that if my mics hear it this clearly at 2 miles, than they can probably hear it at 5 miles.
Despite the roaring in the too-close-distance, other (P. brimleyi), are heard from around this swamp, creating a desired stereo chorus**. Also singing, and trying to steal center stage are many small but powerful voiced Spring Peepers. There are many Southern Leopard Frogs too, but they will fade almost to silence in studio, as I try to remove the smoke belching dragon.
Photo-Op:
Now though, nearing midnight it's time to try for photos. As the the cables, tripod, headphones and recorder are returned to the van, and the camera gear slung over the head, I can almost ignore the roaring grinding sounds to the east. The avocation of sound recording is its own reward, but when it's time for the camera, I'm able to look around more, to explore, to move without fear of making noise by rippling water, bumping cables, tripod legs, or the vegetation around me.
A biologist pointed me here, 151 miles from home-base in the Piedmont, All at some cost(15 gallons of fuel at $3.75) and never mind the lack of sleep, and job performance tomorrow. But now what started as a rainy Monday night, was a moonlit Tuesday morning in the presence of the magical and primordial. In the realm of frogs, in the presence of ancient mysterious nymphs of the swamp water.
Though tired and chilled through the rubber waders, there were moments that instilled awe and excitement, the things that bring some people to places like this. I was still and looking for more chorus frogs, when it approached. A small and fluid form form glided through the shallows of the swamp water. I watched it stroke and float spirit-like to a standstill just below the surface. I fumbled with the headlamp, with the camera and macro lens focusing wheel, but there it rested, right under my nose, 4 feet below me.
All of 3-4 inches stretched out on the water, was probably the most common frog of all, but so many so easy to hear things, are not always this easy to see. And through the headlamp light reflected through the digital SLR viewfinder, I could see the hourglass darker brown on the back of this Spring Peeper (Pseudacris crucifer).
I remembered other frog moments -- one from Costa Rica, and this too was cool. Dirt common, but incredible, small and insignificant, but close, and pulse quickening--maybe as akin to the hunter taking the shot, as much as childish wonder?
Other great things from the swamp were the choruses of Southern Leopard Frogs (Rana sphenocephala),
--a ratchet like series of low clucking or almost quacking sounds. Whenever I'm approaching these from the shore, I'm too noisy, an or impatient to get close enough for images, but here after midnight, moving through the swamp, there was better access, and approach. The choruses would stop, but the frogs would not all depart right away.
I snapped pics of frogs floating on the surface with just snouts barely out in the air. I had one shot of a Leopard Frog tucked into the leaves and mud near a buttress, waiting for prey perhaps?
Then there were shots of mating pairs in amplexus, and of egg masses to be had. And as it was already Tuesday, it would soon be time to be back to work, at a school 3 hours away.
Other Sound Recording and Photo Notes/ Miscellany:
So there were several games to play out, get the sound, put the mics as close as possible to try and have nothing but frog, even though the blasted paper-mill was shredding bunches of tree trunks into pulp, and contributing to the local rural economy.. The target for recording was the Brimley's Chorus Frog, so ideally there would be more of that and as little of the powerful peeping from Spring Peepers (there needs to be a spray for them).
After recording this one closeup Brimley's it was time for images. The voice of this frog is deceptive in the distance it travels. From the roadside it seemed just over the edge of the roadside brush and vegetation. It seemed on the edge of the swamp. Soon the over the calf boots were not enough. The frog was further into the swamp. Each time I tried to echo-locating it by cupping my hand behind my ears, it was not near the water right in front of me, but a little deeper in to the swamp. The moonlight flickered as the broken cloud cover zoomed past overhead. The wind near water level was nominal, but it was getting colder, dipping to the low forties.
With hip waders the mics ended up 50 yards or so into the swamp, and the frog had allowed allot of approach noise, tripod adjustments, and some headlamp and flashlight shining on it. The frog stayed, I knew where it was, and transitioned to photo gear. Macro lens, flash, Canon T3i --DSLR, and back to the swamp it was. The first shot was recognizable, focused as well as my aging eyes could do it. Readers, in the swamp, with a headlamp, and using a viewfinder, is a hassle. Trying to get as low as possible had the butt get a tiny bit wet from the swamp. And then, as the other chorus frogs began to sing, so did the one now with a camera within 2 feet of it. It did not flee, even with a strobe blazing to provide power for an f16 apertute (a tiny opening).
The tiny opening allows for greater depth of field, near foot, eye, and far frog foot could be in decent focus, but the frogs eye may stop down do to the light (and heat) of the blast.
So as the frogs voice sac inflated and pulsed with each call, the strobe and shutter slammed away. I would wait the 5-10 minutes or more between call sequences and try again, such a cooperative critter it was.
Credits and Sources:
To capture the Brimley's Chorus Frog on tape, one needs to know something about where it lives, when it calls, and ideally finding a place far away from the masking noise of man's mechanized world. As I'd never even seen this frog (it was a lifer /a life frog species for the life frog list --in birder speak) a good bit of help was needed, and at least one true expert has been humoring me with return emails over the years --thank you Dr. Jeffrey Beane of the NC State Museum of Natural Sciences.
In this effort Jeff Beane put me in touch with another expert Jeff Hall of the Partners in Amphibian & Reptile Conservation, Biologist NC Wildlife Resources Commission, --the person with the local knowledge and very recent encounter with the target species.
*Recordist does not exist as a formal word beyond the people who do sound record. It could be defined as a sound recording person, or in this case, a nature recording technician or artist? Yeah that's it, a nature sound recording artist :-)
** Stereo chorus, the way we hear many voices singing at once. we hear in surround sound with the strongest reception coming from in front of our faces. A pair of microphones pointed like an X or a Y at one another give us a good approximation of how we hear things in stereo. If you close your eyes while listening to a stereo recording, you should be able to place the positions of the sounds in a field in front of you.
Does this remind you of the game Marco Polo?
No comments:
Post a Comment