Sound waves, which are really vibrations
in the air around us, are collected by the pinna on each side of our head and
are funnelled into the ear canals. These sound waves make the eardrum vibrate.
The eardrum is so sensitive to sound vibrations in the ear canal that it can
detect even the faintest sound as well as replicating even the most complex of
sound vibration patterns.
The eardrum vibrations caused by sound waves move
the chain of tiny bones (the ossicles – malleus, incus and stapes) in the
middle ear transferring the sound vibrations into the cochlea of the inner ear.
This
happens because the last of the three bones in this chain, the stapes, sits in
a membrane-covered window in the bony wall which separates the middle ear from
the cochlea of the inner ear. As the stapes vibrates, it makes the fluids in
the cochlea move in a wave-like manner, stimulating the microscopically small
‘hair cells’. Cells near the wide end of the snail-shaped cochlea detect
higher-pitched sounds such as a child crying, those closer to the centre detect
lower pitched sounds such as a large dog barking.
As the hair cells move up
and down then microscopic projections on top of them bump against an overlying
structure and bend which causes pore like channels to open up and chemicals
rush into the cell creating an electrical signal.
The auditory nerve carries
these signals through a complicated pathway in the brainstem before arriving at
the hearing centres of the brain, the auditory cortex. This is where the
streams of nerve impulses are converted into meaningful sound.
When I was a
Medical Engineer one of the jobs was to check the accuracy of equipment around
the hospital. We had test equipment to do this but as often as not I’d check on
myself as well. So, one day back in around 2008 I was in the Audiology
Department and casually put on the headphones in the sound proof room and went
through the test. At first I thought the headphones were faulty but after
checking again I realised that I had a small hearing loss at 8 kHz. It wasn’t a
problem and it was only when this subject of vibration came up that I
remembered the occasion and I’m only mentioning it now as an example of how the
body can compensate for slight faults.
As a matter of interest the human
hearing range of a healthy individual is between 20 Hz and 20000Hz with the
higher frequencies ( or number of vibrations per second ) gradually fading
during a lifetime. Human speech covers the range of 200 – 8000Hz.
What the
auditory system cannot filter or compensate for, of course, is what sort of
vibration is going into the ear in the first place. Personally, as far as I’m
concerned, popular music stopped not so very long after Good Vibrations.
And
this really did have vibrations.
Puerto
Rico, Gran Canaria
Listen
to the rhythm of drills
breaking brown rocks
and space from hill
for elegant cranes
to turn in a Sun
taking huge factors
of grey lotion
smoothed over shapes
that are baking all day
that look forward to night
when the still white faces
of the apartments opposite
are made over with make up
of light and shade
and the dance of the drills
is taken by a bass
from the clubs and bars
of the red, white and blue district
and creeps through my bedroom
the high notes saved for three a.m.
the air in my room tuned to
Puerto Rico, you’re a great audience.
In the morning
listen
to the rhythm of drills.
Terry Quinn
First published in Equinox 2005
Very interesting. I suffer from occasional bouts of tinnitus and hope it never becimes a permanent condition. Great poem too.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyable. I like your poem. I tried to tick interesting and poetic but it doesn't seem to be working.
ReplyDeleteSince we’re on hearing, how come I can still hear (at 67) individual sources of sound perfectly well, but around a large dinner table (for instance) I cannot ”focus” or ”filter” sounds, such that everything becomes a sludgy audio porridge and it actually gets quite physically and - more significantly - mentally/emotionally disturbing and generally uncomfortable. It’s a real pain - in the figurative sense, at least. I put it down to too much loud music through Marshall speaker-stacks at a tender age, but it’s probably just normal wear and tear along with all the other minor complaints of advancing years.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your blog Terry. Informative and a beautifully crafted poem.
ReplyDeleteThanks Terry, for a fascinating and instructive blog, an excellent reminder of just how intricate some of our sensory mechanisms are. Having passed a certain milestone a few years ago, I regularly receive invitations from a well-known high-street store to go along for a free auditory check. I've resisted the temptation up to now as I figure my hearing is perfectly adequate... but you never know. Like my friend 'otyikindo' above, I also abused my ears for years with loud music. On one particularly infamous occasion I couldn't hear properly for two days after enjoying an extremely loud Hoodoo Gurus gig. I enjoyed your poem. it had some nicely observed lines and a wry undertone.
ReplyDelete