Fernando
Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar
I could hear the distant drums
And sounds of bugle calls were coming from afar
Can you hear the drums, Fernando? ABBA crooned famously1. And have you ever stopped to wonder how you hear them?
Listening is something we take for granted, like blinking or breathing, yet it shapes our world in profound ways.Now, read this aloud:
There once was a fellow named Lou,
Whose ears caught each sound, old and new.
From whispers to thunder,
He'd pause and he'd wonder,
"Is listening an art form? Who knew?"
That playful verse reminds me of Ogden Nash, master of the whimsical observation. Nash understood, as I've come to appreciate, that listening isn't just a passive act; it's a gateway to connection, understanding, and even well-being. The other day I listened to a great BBC audio documentary — about listening itself.
Sound Detectives
One Hundred Ways of Listening featured sound anthropologist, Dr Tom Rice, who has been collecting different ways of listening from the world’s leading sound experts.
He has spent over 2 decades analysing the ways we tune in to the world. His work in hospitals reveals how sound influences patient care, from the reassuring beep of a heart monitor to the dreaded clatter of a metal tray. But listening isn't a one-size-fits-all activity — there are distinct styles of listening, each with its own quirks.
Clinical Listening – Doctors don't just hear heartbeats; they eavesdrop on your body's rhythms, where even the smallest dissonant note matters. It's listening with precision, like a detective on the trail of an invisible clue.
Cultural Listening – Notice how different languages and communities have unique sonic signatures. The way we listen is shaped by where we live and what we value. In Japan, silence carries meaning; in Italy, a whisper goes unnoticed.
Enchanted Listening – When the thing you’re listening to becomes a sonic being with its own characteristics. Think back to Fernando. Those drums don’t just carry a beat; they time-travel, transforming your living room into a starlit rendezvous with ABBA. It’s why songs make us happy or sad, while others get our feet tapping involuntarily.
Eavesdropping – Call it sneaky, call it research — this form of listening thrives in coffee shops and subway rides. Or what if you could spy on the divine and experience joy as Mary Oliver writes:2
Every spring
I hear the thrush singing
in the glowing woods
he is only passing through.
His voice is deep,
then he lifts it until it seems
to fall from the sky.
I am thrilled.I am grateful.
Echoic Listening – Ever walk into an empty church or canyon and clap just to hear the sound bounce back? This is the kind of listening that makes us aware of space, depth, and our place in it.
Tune In
Beyond Dr. Rice's fascinating categories lies our everyday listening palette — ways we can intentionally tune in that transform ordinary moments into extraordinary connections.
Active Listening – This is what great conversationalists do. It’s nodding, responding, and absorbing what someone is saying — not just waiting for your turn to talk. Listening to truly understand and get the benefit of another person’s thinking, ideas and experience. The most effective leaders I know are great listeners. Conversely ….
Relaxed Listening – Some sounds aren’t meant to be analyzed; they’re meant to wash over you. Think Take Five by Dave Brubeck or Sensitive Kind by J.J. Cale —letting sound be a warm presence rather than a focal point.
So this week, become a listening connoisseur. When Fernando's drums play, or when a barista relays your coffee order, pause. Listen not just with your ears, but with curiosity. Which of these seven listening styles are you using? The world sounds different when you truly tune in.
Fernando was released in March 1976 and became one of ABBA's best-selling singles, topping the charts in at least 13 countries, and selling over 10 million copies worldwide. Its about about two freedom-fighters from the Mexican Revolution reminiscing in old age about a long-ago battle in which they participated.
In Our Woods, Sometimes A Rare Music (A Thousand Mornings, Poems by Mary Oliver)