In memory of Zoom H1N
This audio recorder was bought spontaneously a week before a trip to fish lakes in Niezgoda. I haven’t had much hope about it, but after it was lost, I miss it probably more than any other thing.
Even if I’m fortunate enough that buying another audio recorder won’t affect my finances that much, I feel like I’m being a bad friend. A bad friend who doesn’t take time to process the loss.
And that friend was nice enough to keep recording while being stranded and semi-drowning on a beach, surrounded by seagulls, in the rain. It didn’t complain about it, was completely unbothered.
If you look at the reviews of Zoom H1N it’s definitely not the best audio recorder to get, but if you read some more it turns out it’s the best to get in that price range. If you’re gentle enough with it and have some software to back you up, you can even record quiet sounds.
I don’t know what I’ll do if I find the old recorder. Will I keep both of them, the H1N and H4Pro? Probably. I will possibly use them both to record different sounds in the same area at the same time, not that I need it too much, but I would feel bad if Zoom H1N came back from the dead for me not to use it ever again. Or, in case I meet someone with the need to record, I’ll give them the Zoom H1N and expect them to take it on new adventures, given that this person is responsible enough to care for it.
Assigning emotions and feelings to a non-living matter is a faulty human trait keeping people from making rational decisions and adding avoidable sadness to one’s life. But at the same time, I really like this trait.
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Like my bird sounds? Use them in your own work.