Fance gnawing

one of the last buildings in the village, located on the edge at the entrance to the trail leading to the nearby mountains. I was able to walk up quite close to the area and capture the sounds of a horse obsessively chewing the wooden fence enclosing its living space. It looked like it wanted to tear it apart. An interesting combination of crackling wood and the thrashing of a horse. a few passing cars, the residents would come to the top of the hill, turn around and drive back down to town again, with no discernible purpose or meaningful stop. Turned-up microphones also picked up the distant sounds of the village in the morning. Barking dogs, an impact drill, chirping birds. (roland r-07)