Redwood Resonance: Listening to the Tallest Trees on Earth
When I was growing up in rural Texas, my dad had this deep love for old trees. He planted them, cared for them, talked about them. That fascination rubbed off on me early. As a kid, I’d climb 10 or even 20 meters up into trees on our land – no ropes, just curiosity and branches. I think that childhood sense of awe for trees never left me. It’s stayed with me through years of field recording and shaped the Redwood Resonance project in a very real way.
When I first dreamt of climbing into the canopy of a giant redwood, I had no idea just how deep the experience would go – not just physically, but emotionally and sonically. The Redwood Resonance project is the culmination of years of curiosity, planning, and a desire to explore how sound can tell the story of our planet’s most ancient ecosystems.
Redwoods are the tallest trees on Earth, and some are over 1,000 years old. But few people ever get to experience them from the top down. With help from a specialist climbing guide and a conservation group that protects old-growth groves, I was able to ascend into the canopy, place microphones at multiple heights, and stay overnight in hammocks suspended nearly 70 meters in the air.
The goal was to capture a full sonic portrait of a single tree – its environment, its voice, its resonance.
The experience was surreal. The Grove itself felt like a cathedral – tall, timeless and hushed. One of my favorite discoveries was the “Redwood needle rain". At first, the forest seemed silent. But with ultra-quiet mics, I started hearing this delicate, rain-like texture – barely perceptible clicks as thousands of needles gently fell from the canopy. It was beautiful. You wouldn’t notice it without stopping to listen, really listen.
I left microphones running for long stretches – sometimes up to 24 hours at a time – to capture the Grove at its most still and subtle. That’s how I captured the sound of a redwood tree falling in the distance, like a deep, resonant explosion echoing through the forest. Or a single branch breaking and slicing through 90 meters of air like a falling arrow. These moments are rare, subtle and sometimes unsettling.
Then, there was the raven.
I was using contact mics to record the internal vibrations of the tree when I heard something unexpected – a raven call. At first, I thought I’d accidentally switched to the external mics. But no. The raven’s low, powerful call had caused the tree itself to vibrate, and the mics had captured that. I realized I was hearing the forest not just through the air, but through the wood.
It was a revelation. The tree became an instrument, a filter, a resonator. It reminded me of a cello – deep, warm and mysterious. I tried the same technique with owls and other birds. When conditions were perfectly still, you could hear wildlife not just in the forest, but through the forest. The tree felt the sound.
That led to the heart of the project: the feedback loop.
Using a pair of Genelec 8010 monitors positioned near the tree’s base and contact mics in the bark, I began feeding sound back into the tree itself. For example, I’d record an owl hoot in the Grove, then play it through the monitors into the tree, and re-record the vibration. Then I’d do it again – and again. With each loop, the sound transformed, taking on more of the tree’s tonal character. A kind of sonic alchemy. By the end, the original sound had evolved into a deep, haunting drone – the resonance of ancient wood.
I’ve worked with Genelec monitors for over a decade – first in grad school, later in studios, and then in my own studio. Their precision and clarity have helped shape every stage of my creative process. But this was the first time I took them into the wild. The 8010s were perfect for the redwoods: compact, reliable, and powerful enough to make the experiment possible.
For me, this is what environmental sound storytelling is all about. It’s not just about recording nature – it’s about understanding it, preserving it and sharing it in ways that move people. Inviting others to connect with the natural world in a way that’s intimate, emotional and powerful.
It´s about preserving soundscapes that are disappearing. The redwoods are old. They’ve been listening for centuries. Redwood Resonance was my attempt to listen back.
Redwood Resonance is one chapter in a much larger journey. Over the years, I’ve explored the voices of glaciers, whales, and some of the planet’s most remote ecosystems. Exploring immersive formats has added a new dimension to how I tell these stories – allowing listeners to feel even more connected to the places and moments I record.
Stay tuned – and thanks for listening.
About The Author
Thomas's main goal as a field recordist is to go on long expeditions, record the sounds of nature, and sharing stories from those adventures. His expeditions are often physically demanding and bring together the adventure sports worlds of mountaineering, tree climbing, diving, skiing, and backpacking with the audio storytelling of field recording. Historically, expeditions of this type focus on adventure photography and filmmaking. Instead, Thomas is primarily an adventure field recordist. Thomas dreams of traveling to wild places where he can discover sounds he didn't know existed.