It is still early in the morning, a little before 8:30. Soon, the sun will rise, but for now, I can still see the last stars in the cloudless sky over Bergen. I am sitting on a concrete block, forming two oversized steps, leading to the edge of the sea in Nøstet. The microphones of my recorder, an old and slightly damaged TASCAM DR-100 MKII, are hanging over the edge of the lowest step and are dangling directly over the water. It is cold, near the point of freezing, but there is barely any wind, resulting in a calm atmosphere. Meanwhile The coast is slurping up the tide, gurgling the water in between the nooks and crannies that are formed by the mostly rocky bay before spitting it out again, like a gentle sigh. I am thinking about the crevasses that create these sounds, which, in turn, are also created by the sound. The shape of the rock determines the movements of the water, however, the water also erodes and slowly reshapes the rock formations. A mutual relationship. Meanwhile The incoming and outgoing tides form a habitat for wildlife consisting of mussels, algae, crabs, and fish. In the summer, these bays become crowded by locals, out for a refreshing dive or soak in the rare rays of sunlight. The soundscape changes radically, including chatter, music playing from mobile phones, and the sound of portable barbecues grilling sausages. I remember a few summers ago, I spent an evening here with friends, sharing a bottle of white wine. With the summer season gone, the bays are cold and mostly abandoned by humans, mostly left over to the sea creatures, rats, and birds. Meanwhile A bird is cawing nearby, signaling its presence to all of the neighboring animals. Perhaps it has found a source of food, loudly defending it from other birds or rats. Or perhaps it is speaking a language beyond my comprehension, communicating with others of its own kind, like a friendly call and response, or some kind of argument or dispute. Meanwhile Looking over the small bay, there is a five-floor office building with a glass facade facing me. People sitting at their desks, typing on computers, and shuffling paperwork. None of these activities are captured by my recorder. Office buildings are quiet, or rather, they form acoustic shields for the sounds happening behind them without adding sounds of their own. Meanwhile From where I am sitting, the city sounds are reduced to a low bass drone, merging the sounds of traffic, ships, planes, construction, and commuting. Right behind me is a small car park, and every now and then a car passes by to find an empty spot. The cars are quiet as well, equipped with near-silent electric engines, reducing the sound of their movement to the friction points between rubber and asphalt. A truck backs up, producing a pulsating beeping sound designed to warn those who find themselves within the blindspot of the truck driver's view.