Viena no skaistākajām naturālistiskajām mūzikām, ko esmu dzirdējis. Mūziķis uzbūvēja Tasmānijas mežā ar saules baterejām darbināmu studiju, lai ierakstītu dabas skaņas, didžeridū un transcendētu to būtību mūzikā. Pats mūziķis arī izskatās savdabīgi - it kā viņa seju grauztu vēzis (gan jau kaut kāda iedzimta vizuāla kaite).

Piemērs: Ron Nagorcka - Lovregana - Music From A Tasmanian Forest [1990]

Composer, performer, and naturalist Ron Nagorcka (born 1948) spent much of his childhood exploring music and the natural world on a sheep farm in Western Victoria (Australia). He went on to study history, pipe organ, harpsichord, and composition at Melbourne University and then composition and electronic music at the University of California San Diego. During this time he also became a competent didjeridu player and began seriously to compose.

In the late 1970s he was active as a composer in Melbourne, taught composition at the Melbourne State College and founded the Clifton Hill Community Music Centre which became a venue of considerable importance to many emerging composers and punk musicians of the time. In 1986 he visited Tasmania as a tutor at the National Young Composers School in Hobart, and decided to move to the island. Since 1988 he has been living and working in a remote forest in northern Tasmania, where he has built his own house and solar-powered studio. In that time he has also joined many different instrumentalists to perform his compositions - in Tasmania, Melbourne, the USA, Japan, Sweden, Italy, Malaysia and especially over the past decade with Norwegians.

Digital technology has since 1990 enabled him to explore a long held interest in the ancient tuning known as "just intonation". Many of his pieces are written using many more than 12 notes per octave and use an unconventional notation.

It was the influence of Australian indigenous culture - in particular the didjeridu players from whom he occasionally learnt - that encouraged him to develop more of an understanding of  "Country" and to reflect this somehow in his music. A remote forest on a remote island like Tasmania is a perfect place to explore the natural world, and he is an enthusiastic Field Naturalist and Conservation activist who takes a keen interest in the science, as well as the aesthetics of the Australian bush. Analysis of his extensive library of birdsong often provides the basis for the scales he designs. He makes and plays his own didjeridus, and has incorporated this instrument into his music since 1974. The influence of traditional Aboriginal music is otherwise most evident in his rhythmical techniques.

Tīnis, ejot uz zinātni, nemaz nenojauš, ka tā ir atteikšanās no dzīves ekstātiskajām patiesībām par labu vienīgi objektīvajām. Bet bērns taču nevar zināt to upuri, kas būs jānes. 

Varbūt pastāv kāda dzīves darba joma, ko bērna vai pusaudža prāts varētu sagremot bez šādiem noklusētiem "dzīvildzes zemūdens akmeņiem"? 

Nāk prātā industriālā laikmeta sākums Eiropā, kur tikko urbanizēto vecāku atvases labi saprata savu likteni, noskatoties uz vecāku ikdienas mazajiem priekiem un lielajām ciešanām. 

Manuprāt, postpostmodernie bērni nemaz nav spējīgi izprast savu vecāku ciešanas, jo viņi pārsvarā mentāli atrodas citur, kamēr viņu ķermeņi turpina savas kustības, savas mazās ikdienas rutīnas. Es ļoti labi zinu, kāds ir "ekranēta" jaunieša prāts, jo es biju t.s. "datoratkarīgais" 90to noslēgumā/jaunās tūkstošgades pirmajos gados. 

Es ļoti labi atceros, cik absolūti depersonalizēts es jutos pēc ilgām geiminga sesijām. Jebkura dzīves problēma tika nošķirta no manas paralēlās realitātes "aiz-ekrānijā" un ignorēta. Saruna ar vecākiem nav iespējama, kamēr es mentāli atrodos citur. Ir iespējama, bet tad tā būs divu atšķirīgu pamatstāvokļu "pamodies" un "iesnaudies" sadursme. 

Kādu es redzu nākotni? Tādu, kur ekrāns ir integrēts cilvēka būtībā un tiek transcendēts šīs neērtais starpstāvoklis starp veco Oglekļa Dievu un jauno Silikona Dievu.