The Sound that Seeds the Stories

On an island in the Inner Hebrides, sitting in a fine old graveyard by the sea, I started noticing a low moaning croon from out over the water. Like wind in telephone wires, but with syllables. Maybe a bit like wolf howls at a great distance. Disembodied spirits of the drowned?

After a long, wondering time, I crossed the wide, low-tide beach and got as close to the water’s edge as I could. I studied the rock islands out beyond the waves with my binocs and found a few seal-shaped sleek rocks that seemed to move, maybe. I did my best to catch some of their music on my iPhone, but it was very soft, compared to the rush of the wind.

When I got back to the castle where I was staying with other writers and artists, I played my rough little recording for Emma Nicolson, Head of Creative Programmes at the Royal Botanic Garden in Edinburgh. Emma confirmed that, yes, at certain times of year, seals SING!

From Scottish Wildlife Trust:

“Grey seals are known for the eerie ‘singing’ noise they make while competing for space at haul-out sites. This has led to many myths about grey seals transforming into humans or humans into seals.“

I know now where the stories of sirens’ songs, selkies, and mermaids got started. I will listen more closely as I walk along the beach.