In the quiet of the Hoh Rainforest of Olympic National Park, heavy rain falls on tall stands of Sitka Spruce. On this day, 2020-09-23, the park saw nearly its entire expected monthly precipitation (6.37 in/ 162 mm) in one 24 hour hard rainfall (5.93 in/ 151 mm), swelling the Hoh River into a raging monster that swept away trees along the shore. This recording is from an in-land quiet area about four miles into the Hoh River Trail.
Sometimes I hear people talking about "the sound of rain in a forest" as being just a single, monolithic sound that covers the entire forest, or even all forests. To these people I suggest to Listen More. Close your eyes and take it in. No recording can do justice to feeling of being there, the smell of cedar in the air and soil beneath your feet, the feeling of water dripping down your faces and fogging your glasses, the damp chill as your clothes soak in the moisture. No recording carries with it the green all around you, the quiet elk browsing in the forest to your side, the slow falling leaves knocked from branches by hard raindrops. But still, still a recording can convey some of the subtleties of the immediate surroundings, some of the details that go into making one tree sing like another does not.
Sitka Spruce, like other conifers, carries a spray-like sound when under pouring rain. Its fine needle-like leaves act as tiny diffusors, absorbing the energy of rainfall and turning the drops into mist. Tall, majestic trees, among the tallest anywhere, they are common sights in the coastal forests of the Pacific Northwest.
