ICHIGAN. A TANNINY CREEK. Brown water, greenest grasses. Me in a kayak with my son, not yet two years old. A few weeks earlier, someone asked, “What is the audio world you want to live in?” (I work in radio, so maybe that’s a normal question?) Suddenly, I’m thinking I have the answer. Right here, the of the paddle in dark water, the steampunk flickering of dragonfly wings. But then I get greedy. I start thinking of other sounds I’d like to curl up in. My only constraint, they must be real—the splendor and psychedelia of what’s actually here:
