All roads lead to water. Water is the fundamental of the original soundscape, a fertile sonic archetype. Given the chance, probably all men would live at the edge of the element, within earshot of its moods night and day.

The mind must be slowed to catch the million transformations of the water, on sand, on shale, against rocks, against driftwood. Some sounds are discrete, others continuous. Each wave tinkles at a different pitch; each wave sets a different filtering on an inexhaustible supply of white noise.