Catherine Clover sifts through the city’s white noise separating sounds. She hones in on rain playing on upturned buckets, the rhythm of cicada song and, say, the noise of Melbourne Town Hall’s elevator. Given the lead, these little compositions say ‘home’ to anyone who has lived in Melbourne – pinning down that sense of being home that you can never quite put your finger on. The soundscapes are often paired with photos. So, you can see tiny pieces of leaf litter gathered in the cracks of broken concrete while listening to the chirrup of birds chime in with the city thrum.

It’s lovely stuff that might inspire a liberation of ears from being plugged with headphones while travelling around town.