Caroline is a name which has cropped up a lot this week. I booked my holiday cottage with Caroline on Tiree. Caroline answered the phone when I rang the bank to ask about squeezing a bit more from a moribund overdraft. It was Caroline who sold me this week's losing lottery ticket at the Spar.  And another Caroline wrote to me about recording sound created by weather events whistling through long lengths of wire.

I'll leave to students of C.G. Jung the synchronicity of all these Carolines. However I did tell the latter one that telegraph wires have slack built into them and so are unlikely to resonate into any kind of intonation worth recording.  I suggested that she might be better off heading to the high moorlands to capture the sound of taut, rusted, sheep fencing which I know to hum from my extensive hill-walking.  I also pointed her in the direction of the amazing singing forest gate of Black Mixen at OS grid ref SO 201 644 and which sings like a kettle when the wind is right.

But then some further research turned up Jarbas Agnelli.  Like many before him, Jarbas' inspiration came from the way birds sitting on telegraph wires seemed to resemble so many musical notes on staves.  So, long story short, he converted them to a music score.  The result of which can be seen and heard in the video on the left.    

Not quite the humming telephone wires Caroline #4 was hoping for, but a pleasant diversion nonetheless.