Seeing with Sound
It’s early in the morning in Brofjorden, a fjord about an hour and a half from the Swedish port city of Gothenburg. Leif Sunesson is four or five years old, fishing down by the water. It’s cold, and it sounds that way: the bobbing of the water is slower, particularly sharp. When the sun gradually moves higher up in the sky, shining over everything, the ecosystem of sound engulfing him changes. Every channel of noise travels quicker, and details become harder to catch—become dimmer, less crisp—when the world warms up.