Residents of Woodland in County Durham are being disturbed by a mysterious constant throbbing noise Photo: NNP
Tiny village is latest victim of the 'The hum'
6:00PM BST 09 Jun 2011
Now a tiny English village is the latest community to claim to be being hit by the phenomenon known as "the hum".
Residents of Woodland, in County Durham, claim that every night a noise permeates the air similar to the throb of a car engine.
It is sometimes so strong that it even shakes the bed of one of the householders.
Seaham Hall and Serenity Spa, County Durham
But no matter how hard they look, the community cannot find the source of the problem and, at their wits end, have called in the council to investigate.
The 300-strong population is the latest around the world to be hit by the rumble which has in the past led to wild conspiracy theories blaming it on UFOs, government experiments and abandoned mine shafts.
Barnard Castle (side view), County Durham
Barnard Castle (side view), County Durham
It is so widespread that it has even featured on the television show The X Files.
Its most famous occurrence was in Bristol in the 1970s when more than a thousand people complained of the consistent drone causing nosebleeds, sleeplessness and headaches.
It vanished as mysteriously as it arrived and was never explained.
Residents of Woodland, a community consisting of one main street surrounded by farmland, claims their version of "the hum" is constant from midnight until 4am every night and stops them sleeping.
There are no pylons, factories or abandoned mines nearby.
Horse, County Durham, 2002 (photo credit Chris Steele Perkins)
The noise started about two months ago and has been plaguing the isolated village every day since.
Marylin Grech, 57, a retired store detective, said: "In certain areas of the house you can hear it more loudly. It is definitely from outside, it's in the air, all around, very faint.
"It vibrates through the house. We've turned all the electricity off in the house and we can still hear it, so it's not that.
"Sometimes we'll be in bed and it vibrates right through our bed, like a throbbing.
"It's not tinnitus, that's a high pitched sound and this is very low. If I put my fingers in my ears it stops, so I know it's not in my head.
"At 4am it's so clear, because we live in such an isolated place with no traffic, it's heaven.
Sunrise, County Durham
"But it leaves a buzzing in your head for the rest of the day."
Gary Hutchinson, an environmental protection manager at Durham County Council, said: "I can confirm that we received a call regarding a humming sound in the Woodland area earlier on June 1 and we will now make further enquiries before deciding what action we will take."
NOTE:
Reading The Telegraph's "Hum" story yesterday arrested me for several reasons. First, I was previously unaware of the Hum, a phenomenon that seems to have been widely reported and the subject of speculation and analysis for quite some time.
The Wikipedia article, which is linked in the previous sentence, provides supplemental information regarding the Hum, and also discusses similar auditory phenomena of unknown origin, such as the Julia, the Schumann resonances, Singing Sand, the Slow Down and the Bloop.
Singing Sand Dune, Kazakhstan
Of these, I was only previously familiar with the Bloop, which I learned about early last year on Tom Clark's Beyond The Pale blog (please see third comment down beneath the poem Opus), which I happily recommend to you for Bloop auditing and other further reading, research and grand enjoyment.
Those who would like to sample the widely-reported Taos Hum, please listen Here.
Singing Sand seekers, select this.
Durham, 1857
Brooklyn Bridge, Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan, early 20th century
On further reflection, however, I realized that I had previously encountered the Hum, albeit in other contexts. Many years ago a woman I know, a friend and former work colleague, when describing her spiritual views spoke to me about believing in a "universal hum." From other parts of our conversation, I understood her to mean a loose sort of non-hierarchical, non-anthropomorphic underlying connection between all things -- all sentient and (supposedly) non-sentient beings -- that informed and undergirded her pantheist way of viewing the world. My friend Mindy is a practical and analytical, as well as an intuitive person, and I'm pleased to report that she later followed through on her beliefs by changing careers in mid-life, trading a secure and established position in the corporate entertainment world, where she excelled, and becoming a talented (and licensed) Chinese acupuncturist in Manhattan and Woodstock, New York. In light of an email exchange between us last week, I think the Hum still figures in her life.
Eagle Warehouse and Storage
John Marin, Lower Manhattan, Watercolor and charcoal on paper, 1920, Museum of Modern Art, New York City
The Telegraph story also reminded me of the time in the early 1980s when Caroline and I were first considering buying an apartment in New York. We were excited when a realtor showed us a spectacular place in the former Eagle Warehouse and Storage building (built in 1894 on the site of the original Brooklyn Eagle newspaper offices, the paper Walt Whitman edited) in Brooklyn Heights, overlooking from a high floor the New York waterfront and lower Manhattan. This occurred during a period when many industrial spaces formerly owned by dying New York City industries and/or businesses that formerly supported those dying industries were sold or leased to real estate developers so that city dwellers could trade in their cubicle apartments for spacious, luxurious-seeming loft spaces, new and modern appliances and grand views.
Hell-Mouth USA aka 1273 Third Avenue today ("Pre-war walk-up building; 4 stories, 14 units; Studio apartments; Conveniently located 4 blocks from the 4,5, and 6 trains; These studios offer cozy residences just blocks from Central Park and within easy walking distance of many transportation lines."
Much more upscale and glamorous than anywhere Caroline and I had previously lived (I would cite especially our first apartment at 1273 Third Avenue in Manhattan, where the lobby was depressingly spray-paint-festooned with swastikas and anti-Semitic slogans attacking the landlord who, it must be admitted, was deficient in every possible way), Eagle Warehouse was only steps away from the celebrated River Cafe, a magical place where during clement weather you could enjoy slightly overpriced -- but nothing like today -- al fresco drinks, regard the remnants of John Marin's lower Manhattan skyline, and just watch the East River flow. Entering the proffered apartment, however, we immediately realized that we could never live there because of the insinuating, assaultive and deeply penetrating (rather than sussuring and comforting) Brooklyn Bridge Hum, which would have driven us crazy. (From what we heard later, the bridge hum did drive a lot of people around the bend and affected business in the building. Still, New Yorkers are hardy and can overcome and/or ignore almost anything when they decide to do so.)
River Cafe, Brooklyn Heights, 2 views
Now, the Telegraph's and Wikipedia's "mass tinnitus" speculation seems exceedingly far-fetched to me. But it did make me recall Caroline's work in the 1990s with the great Pete Townshend of The Who, at one point the world's most famous (and certainly the most vocal and voluble) tinnitus sufferer. Interestingly, by the time Caroline assisted Townshend and the rest of the spikily splintered group (she handled publicity on the superb 30 Years of Maximum R&B project for MCA Records), Pete's tinnitus seemed to be entirely a thing of the past and he expended his famous volubility on other subjects and activities. There was, however, a lot of conversation in and among the group about the late John Entwistle (the man with the most articulate handshake -- you could feel powerful and detailed Who bass lines entering your body on the encounter -- in the world*) being mostly deaf from 30 Years of Maximum R& B played at volume level "11", and this seemed to be true. It was said that by this time Entwistle was deftly and effectively picking up his most of his musical cues through floorboard vibrations coupled with memory and, of course, his sheer genius.
Personally, lately I am "in and out" of the Hum, which I sort of recognize as the general rhythm of things, because of the recent sweltering heat (which seems to be affecting me more and more this year) and challenging, sometimes faltering, professional and personal relations that I seem powerless to influence. (Sometimes I find Joni Mitchell's cliched lyric "maybe it's the time of year or maybe it's the time of man" sticking and repeating in my head; I wish it wouldn't). Also, Jane's away, as she will be for most of this summer, and this has me a little out of sorts. One thing bringing me back to the Hum is the re-emergence of our Tuxedo Park House Spirit, who has been behaving in extravagant ways lately, making its presence known as never before. This is a benign, supportive spirit and absolutely a welcome guest (if it's in fact the spirit and not we who are the guests). However, it would be very much appreciated if doors to the outside (windows also) could remain in open and closed positions selected by the Roberts' at their sole decision and direction. You see (O spirit!), the dogs are crazy and need to be kept safe, out of the road and woods, and under control.
John Alec Entwistle aka "The Ox" (1944-2002)
Now that I am back on the Hum Trail, I promise to follow Gary Hutchinson's further investigations in Durham County (n.b., home county to The Great Paul Thompson, my very favorite drummer and his Roxy Music bandmate Bryan Ferry) and report back any news on this and related mystery auditory and/or other phenomena.
John Marin (1870-1953). Photographic portrait by Alfred Stieglitz and Edward Steichen, 1910.
And in view of the current Buffalo Springfield reunion, it only seems appropriate to note that: "Something's happening here/ What it is ain't exactly clear" and, obviously, "Stop! What's That Sound?"
County Durham natives Bryan Ferry (l) and The Great Paul Thompson (r)
*With some slight fear of name-dropping, I thought I might mention that I also once shook hands with the great Byrds bass guitarist Chris Hillman and experienced the same effect. You could literally feel both men's musical personality and psychology translating itself through their enormous, beautifully formed hands and expressive, unpretentiously bone-crushing grip. If I'm ever able to meet and shake hands with Paul McCartney, Jack Casady, Aston "Family Man" Barrett or Robbie Shakespeare, and am still able to type following the hand-to-hand encounter, I promise to report back and update as necessary.
For another type of Hum, please see Here.
Its most famous occurrence was in Bristol in the 1970s when more than a thousand people complained of the consistent drone causing nosebleeds, sleeplessness and headaches.
It vanished as mysteriously as it arrived and was never explained.
Residents of Woodland, a community consisting of one main street surrounded by farmland, claims their version of "the hum" is constant from midnight until 4am every night and stops them sleeping.
There are no pylons, factories or abandoned mines nearby.
Horse, County Durham, 2002 (photo credit Chris Steele Perkins)
The noise started about two months ago and has been plaguing the isolated village every day since.
Marylin Grech, 57, a retired store detective, said: "In certain areas of the house you can hear it more loudly. It is definitely from outside, it's in the air, all around, very faint.
"It vibrates through the house. We've turned all the electricity off in the house and we can still hear it, so it's not that.
"Sometimes we'll be in bed and it vibrates right through our bed, like a throbbing.
"It's not tinnitus, that's a high pitched sound and this is very low. If I put my fingers in my ears it stops, so I know it's not in my head.
"At 4am it's so clear, because we live in such an isolated place with no traffic, it's heaven.
Sunrise, County Durham
"But it leaves a buzzing in your head for the rest of the day."
Gary Hutchinson, an environmental protection manager at Durham County Council, said: "I can confirm that we received a call regarding a humming sound in the Woodland area earlier on June 1 and we will now make further enquiries before deciding what action we will take."
NOTE:
Reading The Telegraph's "Hum" story yesterday arrested me for several reasons. First, I was previously unaware of the Hum, a phenomenon that seems to have been widely reported and the subject of speculation and analysis for quite some time.
The Wikipedia article, which is linked in the previous sentence, provides supplemental information regarding the Hum, and also discusses similar auditory phenomena of unknown origin, such as the Julia, the Schumann resonances, Singing Sand, the Slow Down and the Bloop.
Singing Sand Dune, Kazakhstan
Of these, I was only previously familiar with the Bloop, which I learned about early last year on Tom Clark's Beyond The Pale blog (please see third comment down beneath the poem Opus), which I happily recommend to you for Bloop auditing and other further reading, research and grand enjoyment.
Those who would like to sample the widely-reported Taos Hum, please listen Here.
Singing Sand seekers, select this.
Durham, 1857
Brooklyn Bridge, Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan, early 20th century
On further reflection, however, I realized that I had previously encountered the Hum, albeit in other contexts. Many years ago a woman I know, a friend and former work colleague, when describing her spiritual views spoke to me about believing in a "universal hum." From other parts of our conversation, I understood her to mean a loose sort of non-hierarchical, non-anthropomorphic underlying connection between all things -- all sentient and (supposedly) non-sentient beings -- that informed and undergirded her pantheist way of viewing the world. My friend Mindy is a practical and analytical, as well as an intuitive person, and I'm pleased to report that she later followed through on her beliefs by changing careers in mid-life, trading a secure and established position in the corporate entertainment world, where she excelled, and becoming a talented (and licensed) Chinese acupuncturist in Manhattan and Woodstock, New York. In light of an email exchange between us last week, I think the Hum still figures in her life.
Eagle Warehouse and Storage
John Marin, Lower Manhattan, Watercolor and charcoal on paper, 1920, Museum of Modern Art, New York City
The Telegraph story also reminded me of the time in the early 1980s when Caroline and I were first considering buying an apartment in New York. We were excited when a realtor showed us a spectacular place in the former Eagle Warehouse and Storage building (built in 1894 on the site of the original Brooklyn Eagle newspaper offices, the paper Walt Whitman edited) in Brooklyn Heights, overlooking from a high floor the New York waterfront and lower Manhattan. This occurred during a period when many industrial spaces formerly owned by dying New York City industries and/or businesses that formerly supported those dying industries were sold or leased to real estate developers so that city dwellers could trade in their cubicle apartments for spacious, luxurious-seeming loft spaces, new and modern appliances and grand views.
Hell-Mouth USA aka 1273 Third Avenue today ("Pre-war walk-up building; 4 stories, 14 units; Studio apartments; Conveniently located 4 blocks from the 4,5, and 6 trains; These studios offer cozy residences just blocks from Central Park and within easy walking distance of many transportation lines."
Much more upscale and glamorous than anywhere Caroline and I had previously lived (I would cite especially our first apartment at 1273 Third Avenue in Manhattan, where the lobby was depressingly spray-paint-festooned with swastikas and anti-Semitic slogans attacking the landlord who, it must be admitted, was deficient in every possible way), Eagle Warehouse was only steps away from the celebrated River Cafe, a magical place where during clement weather you could enjoy slightly overpriced -- but nothing like today -- al fresco drinks, regard the remnants of John Marin's lower Manhattan skyline, and just watch the East River flow. Entering the proffered apartment, however, we immediately realized that we could never live there because of the insinuating, assaultive and deeply penetrating (rather than sussuring and comforting) Brooklyn Bridge Hum, which would have driven us crazy. (From what we heard later, the bridge hum did drive a lot of people around the bend and affected business in the building. Still, New Yorkers are hardy and can overcome and/or ignore almost anything when they decide to do so.)
River Cafe, Brooklyn Heights, 2 views
Now, the Telegraph's and Wikipedia's "mass tinnitus" speculation seems exceedingly far-fetched to me. But it did make me recall Caroline's work in the 1990s with the great Pete Townshend of The Who, at one point the world's most famous (and certainly the most vocal and voluble) tinnitus sufferer. Interestingly, by the time Caroline assisted Townshend and the rest of the spikily splintered group (she handled publicity on the superb 30 Years of Maximum R&B project for MCA Records), Pete's tinnitus seemed to be entirely a thing of the past and he expended his famous volubility on other subjects and activities. There was, however, a lot of conversation in and among the group about the late John Entwistle (the man with the most articulate handshake -- you could feel powerful and detailed Who bass lines entering your body on the encounter -- in the world*) being mostly deaf from 30 Years of Maximum R& B played at volume level "11", and this seemed to be true. It was said that by this time Entwistle was deftly and effectively picking up his most of his musical cues through floorboard vibrations coupled with memory and, of course, his sheer genius.
Personally, lately I am "in and out" of the Hum, which I sort of recognize as the general rhythm of things, because of the recent sweltering heat (which seems to be affecting me more and more this year) and challenging, sometimes faltering, professional and personal relations that I seem powerless to influence. (Sometimes I find Joni Mitchell's cliched lyric "maybe it's the time of year or maybe it's the time of man" sticking and repeating in my head; I wish it wouldn't). Also, Jane's away, as she will be for most of this summer, and this has me a little out of sorts. One thing bringing me back to the Hum is the re-emergence of our Tuxedo Park House Spirit, who has been behaving in extravagant ways lately, making its presence known as never before. This is a benign, supportive spirit and absolutely a welcome guest (if it's in fact the spirit and not we who are the guests). However, it would be very much appreciated if doors to the outside (windows also) could remain in open and closed positions selected by the Roberts' at their sole decision and direction. You see (O spirit!), the dogs are crazy and need to be kept safe, out of the road and woods, and under control.
John Alec Entwistle aka "The Ox" (1944-2002)
Now that I am back on the Hum Trail, I promise to follow Gary Hutchinson's further investigations in Durham County (n.b., home county to The Great Paul Thompson, my very favorite drummer and his Roxy Music bandmate Bryan Ferry) and report back any news on this and related mystery auditory and/or other phenomena.
John Marin (1870-1953). Photographic portrait by Alfred Stieglitz and Edward Steichen, 1910.
And in view of the current Buffalo Springfield reunion, it only seems appropriate to note that: "Something's happening here/ What it is ain't exactly clear" and, obviously, "Stop! What's That Sound?"
*With some slight fear of name-dropping, I thought I might mention that I also once shook hands with the great Byrds bass guitarist Chris Hillman and experienced the same effect. You could literally feel both men's musical personality and psychology translating itself through their enormous, beautifully formed hands and expressive, unpretentiously bone-crushing grip. If I'm ever able to meet and shake hands with Paul McCartney, Jack Casady, Aston "Family Man" Barrett or Robbie Shakespeare, and am still able to type following the hand-to-hand encounter, I promise to report back and update as necessary.
For another type of Hum, please see Here.
For the past seven days or so, I was experiencing the Hum. It became somewhat of an obsession, because I was convinced that some new construction project or cooling fan had taken up residence across the street. It only happened when I was in my quaint, quiet-as-a-mouse bungalow in Markham, Ontario. I called town officials, the local newspaper, even the local environmental regulator (Ministry) to try to get to the bottom of it. Nobody knew anything, and more frustrating than this was that no one had ever heard it.
ReplyDeleteAfter much agony, sleepless nights and general crazy-making, I have concluded that my problem is related to a head cold and sinus congestion. It's not very romantic, but at least you don't have to spend countless hours hunting all over town for the culprit. You need look no further than congestion in your inner ear. There may be legitimate noise pollution out there causing your hum, but if you're the only one hearing it, chances are it's an internal thing affecting only you.
After careful study and obsession, here's what happens with me:
I come home. No hum. House is deliciously quiet and I lie down to take a rest. It's winter here, so the furnace kicks in for about ten to fifteen minutes to warm up the place. I hear the thermostat click off and prepare for the dreaded hum. As soon as the fan stops blowing, I am left with hummage. It sucks, but I have now found a way to deal with it: Nyquil. Yes, innocuous (I mean...it-knocks-you-on-your-ass) Nyquil. If you don't live in a place that sells Nyquil, it's basically a powerful cold remedy/decongestant/make-you-pass-out medicine that will remove the Hum. If anything, it will knock you out so you can, at the very least, get a great sleep. Warning: it kinda wrecks you for the next day, so maybe try to take it early so you don't get that hangover.
As far as what is happening physically, I'm no doctor, but I do understand sound. I personally believe that the mucus build up and inflammation in your eustacion tube creates some sort of weird resonance that keep low frequencies humming long after the original source has gone away. Another thought I have is that once the catalyst (in this case, my furnace) goes away, it tunes your ear to some bodily function, say, hearing blood rushing in your veins or something.
I really hope this helps some of you. Trust me, I understand how this phenomenon makes you crazy, almost to the point of tears, but there is help. Just a note: I am still experiencing The Hum, but to a much smaller degree...it's intermittent, and I am starting to manage it with traditional airplane-ear clearing techniques. I'm hoping that as this head-cold clears, so too will the hum.
If you're still having trouble, try blocking one ear with a foam ear plug. Usually the hum resides in one ear and not the other. If you don't like that idea, having a ceiling or floor fan going is a good plan to create a general white noise that replaces the hum. If my hum doesn't go away, I think I may go to one of those ear-clearing spas that use the candle and fluid to clear your ears. Hopefully, my immune system will save me this trip!
For the past seven days or so, I was experiencing the Hum. It became somewhat of an obsession, because I was convinced that some new construction project or cooling fan had taken up residence across the street. It only happened when I was in my quaint, quiet-as-a-mouse bungalow in Markham, Ontario. I called town officials, the local newspaper, even the local environmental regulator (Ministry) to try to get to the bottom of it. Nobody knew anything, and more frustrating than this was that no one had ever heard it.
ReplyDeleteAfter much agony, sleepless nights and general crazy-making, I have concluded that my problem is related to a head cold and sinus congestion. It's not very romantic, but at least you don't have to spend countless hours hunting all over town for the culprit. You need look no further than congestion in your inner ear. There may be legitimate noise pollution out there causing your hum, but if you're the only one hearing it, chances are it's an internal thing affecting only you.
After careful study and obsession, here's what happens with me:
I come home. No hum. House is deliciously quiet and I lie down to take a rest. It's winter here, so the furnace kicks in for about ten to fifteen minutes to warm up the place. I hear the thermostat click off and prepare for the dreaded hum. As soon as the fan stops blowing, I am left with hummage. It sucks, but I have now found a way to deal with it: Nyquil. Yes, innocuous (I mean...it-knocks-you-on-your-ass) Nyquil. If you don't live in a place that sells Nyquil, it's basically a powerful cold remedy/decongestant/make-you-pass-out medicine that will remove the Hum. If anything, it will knock you out so you can, at the very least, get a great sleep. Warning: it kinda wrecks you for the next day, so maybe try to take it early so you don't get that hangover.
As far as what is happening physically, I'm no doctor, but I do understand sound. I personally believe that the mucus build up and inflammation in your eustacion tube creates some sort of weird resonance that keep low frequencies humming long after the original source has gone away. Another thought I have is that once the catalyst (in this case, my furnace) goes away, it tunes your ear to some bodily function, say, hearing blood rushing in your veins or something.
I really hope this helps some of you. Trust me, I understand how this phenomenon makes you crazy, almost to the point of tears, but there is help. Just a note: I am still experiencing The Hum, but to a much smaller degree...it's intermittent, and I am starting to manage it with traditional airplane-ear clearing techniques. I'm hoping that as this head-cold clears, so too will the hum.
If you're still having trouble, try blocking one ear with a foam ear plug. Usually the hum resides in one ear and not the other. If you don't like that idea, having a ceiling or floor fan going is a good plan to create a general white noise that replaces the hum. If my hum doesn't go away, I think I may go to one of those ear-clearing spas that use the candle and fluid to clear your ears. Hopefully, my immune system will save me this trip!
Thanks so much for your note. I suspect that your surmise is mostly correct most of the time. Two nights ago lying in bed, almost asleep, I heard something that sounded like incoming enemy aircraft of the sort we're all familiar with from movies. This interrupted me in mid-sad-worried-reverie and added its own insinuating overlay of fantasy details. I believe I was awake at the time; possibly I was already asleep. To your point, however, I generally believe that a lot goes on in your head. Now that I've discovered that I don't hear as well as (I think) I used to because of listening to too much loud music in headphones, even more goes on there. Thanks for visiting here. It would be nice if you stopped by again and wrote more. I've never been to Markham, but I've spent enjoyable time on-and-off in Toronto. Curtis
ReplyDeleteWow, nice post,there are many person searching about that now they will find enough resources by your post.Thank you for sharing to us.Please one more post about that..Corporate Entertainment
ReplyDeleteWell, I will. Thank you. Please visit again. Curtis
ReplyDelete