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Pablo walked slowly along a quiet path. He had taken off his shoes and socks earlier, leaving them behind near the rocks, choosing instead to walk barefoot. The path beneath his feet felt smooth. As if many people had walked it before him, shaping it gently over time. With each step, he could feel it softly pressing into the bottom of his heels, almost like a quiet massage. The surface was warm from the sun. He felt his toes against it. Grounded. Present. He felt free. Connected to the earth. Alive. A gentle breeze moved around him. He could smell small flowers he had never noticed before. There was something else in the air too — a scent carried by the wind — but he couldn't quite place it. When he reached the bottom of the hill, he stepped out toward the open view. The ocean stretched out in front of him. He could smell the sea. There was a long wooden bench nearby. Large enough for four or five people. He paused for a moment. Then decided to lie down. He stretched out along the bench and closed his eyes. Listening. The distant sound of the ocean below. The soft movement of the grass behind him. And slowly… He began to drift. Find the full Pablo listening library here: https://earthlight.gumroad.com/l/pablo-listening

When Pablo stood up again, he looked down to the valley below. The sand on his shoulders and arms blew off in the light breeze. The valley stretched quietly out below a wide basin of colour and sharrow. From where he stood he could see the deep reds, soft yellows and hints of blue and green. As if somehow someone had sprinkled wildflowers magically across the valley floor. As if the earth had somehow helped to paint its own little secret. The wind travelled up from the ocean, not harsh and not strong, just enough to move the air as the grass swayed back the other way in a long gentle hush. Somehow somewhere below the valley seemed to be alive in its own quiet kind of way. He noticed a very narrow track winding down slowly towards the colours almost near the cliff. He decided to wander down towards the colours and wondered where it would lead. He made his way down gently, not with any urgency, just curiously. The great sweep of the hill falling behind him and the long grass still moving softly. The valley was asking him to join it in some way. Then he stopped for a long moment and just stood there. He took a breath. He looked out once more into the valley below. https://earthlight.gumroad.com/l/lite-library

The long grass moves slowly across the hill in wide rolling waves from the bottom up through the middle towards the top corner as if the land was almost breathing itself sweeping up towards the top of the hill and towards the lighthouse. Pablo stood for a moment struck by the sheer beauty of it. The hillside was alive. Thousands and thousands of blades of grass moving and rising together. It was almost as if someone was somehow guiding the movement like a conductor with invisible hands brushing across the surface of the hillside. He walked towards the edge of the old lookout platform and sat down on the ledge. The wind moved through the grass again a soft hush a long slow sweep. He felt sleepy it looked like an ocean wave most like a lullaby but there was no water here only wind and time. Pablo felt himself drift not asleep not fully awake just somehow suspended in what he would later describe as side time. Not asleep not a daydream but somewhere else just suspended in the rhythm of the hill. And for a long time he did nothing just softened his glaze looking out. When he finally opened his eyes again he felt different somehow refreshed as though something quiet had passed through him and left him somehow lighter. Learn more: https://eattmag.com/start/ Support the project: https://earthlight.gumroad.com/

It was ancient looking, so ancient from where he stood. He couldn't make out the shapes that were carved into the sides. Though he imagined they could have been of creatures that may have clung there over time. Mollusks, large seashells from sea snails that had been worn by years of sea and wind over the time. You could just see at the very top a kind of strange spike up into the air that looked like it had some sort of lump inside it of some description. It wasn't quite straight as if it had been handmade somehow. It was difficult to see from here. He wondered what it was used for. The lighthouse stood beautifully high above the small valley and the hillside leading towards it. Moved and swayed with the long heavy grass beautifully in the wind. Like ocean waves almost moving across the land sweeping up to the hill as if it was an invitation. As if somehow the long grass was inviting him up towards the top of the hill. Towards the lighthouse which somehow looked like it had been carved. With what looked like they were small, long, thin. He wasn't sure if they were windows or if they were holes that you could peer out of or were they something used to feel the temperature of the wind. https://earthlight.gumroad.com/l/lite-library

When he looked up the hill, he could see a windy old road that climbed up slowly into the distance, meandering its way up towards what looked like a large cluster of trees, almost a forest in a way. He wondered why there wasn't a lighthouse here. The sea was blowing rough enough, and he knew this as the Shipwreck Coast. He had heard the stories. Surely there would have been a place for one up here somewhere. And then he turned towards the right, and there it was, a lighthouse perched high on top of the hill. It wasn't like anything he had seen before. It was older somehow, abandoned as if it had been left behind by time. It seemed to have strange shapes, or was that just the wind? Was it just the mist of the ocean and the wind that he could not see it so clearly in the difference of all the atmosphere around it? Somehow as if this lighthouse had been abandoned or left behind somehow by time. https://earthlight.gumroad.com/l/lite-library

Pablo climbed carefully up the steps, his feet searching for the worn holes in the rocks. The stone was cold beneath his skin, his feet almost wrapped around each rock as he slowly made his way to the top, every now and then brushing against a sharp shell. He moved slowly, feeling each step, grabbing the next rock as he finally reached the top. And there at the top, the ghost of an old platform. The wood was faded by the sun, it had been made of old railway sleepers that had been bound together very carefully, somehow the whole structure hanging there. On the right hand side a large part of it had broken off and was hanging over the edge. The signpost stood still standing by his side, it leaning a little with the sign at the top. He looked down at the broken area and wondered if this part of the platform somehow, if one strong wave could simply lift it up and carry it away. In the same way the rope had disappeared, quietly lifting it up, carrying it out to sea, like a raft, silently, somehow, without asking. https://earthlight.gumroad.com

Pablo could see the clouds very clearly, in the pool in the rocks and then he could see a strange shape, like a straight shape reflecting from the clouds. He looked up to the sky, and he couldn't see these straight shapes. Strange he thought maybe it was a beam from an old hut on top of the rocks Maybe not The mast of an old ship that has been smashed against the rocks, where the sailors had scrambled up the rocks like him on this Shipwreck Coast He looked back into the pond and still saw the straight shape. And he turned around to his left. And he could see a large straight post beside the rocks, and on top of the rocks there was a platform. And the large post was stretching up into the air. And on top of the post was a sign with the point to the end of it. The sign said: Leonardos Lighthouse. https://earthlight.gumroad.com/l/quiet-bravery

His heart was beating so deeply. He felt like a dog. He was panting and couldn't catch his breath. Trying to slow down. Tried to slow down. He couldn't. His mind was racing, his heart was beating, his thoughts were spinning. He looked down and saw a small crab sitting in a pool, a tiny pool in the rocks. He closed and opened his eyes. He would focus on the crab. He tried to slow his breath down with a slow box breath. Breathing in, 1-2-3-4. Holding his breath, 1-2-3. Releasing his breath, 1-2-3-4. Use the little crab. He looked at the crab and made it a focus point while he began to slow his breath. Breathe, he told himself. Breathe, 1-2-3. Slowly managed to slow his breath down. When he looked at the pool the little crab was in, you could see the clouds reflected in the pond. Past the little crab was a much larger pool, and this had a much larger, clearer reflection in the water Follow or subscribe for future episodes.

He was close to the rocks, and he could see the surface. The light from the surface changed quickly up and down as the waves were rising quickly up against the rocks. And then he saw it. The rope. Then again the rope appeared at this time, for some reason. He reached out and grabbed it. He could feel coral wrapped around the rope. He pulled tight, and the rope stopped moving. It stayed taut. It was tight. It was attached to something; he didn't know what. He pulled on the rope, and he used it to pull himself up out of the water as he smashed into the rocks, bruised the side of his arm, and scraped his elbow. He wrapped his arm around the rope tight and pulled himself up onto a large rock and looked down at the rope, which had tangled around a large piece of wood, a large piece of wood that was wedged within the rocks. He looked behind him, and he could see a huge wave. He quickly climbed up the next step of rocks before the wave crashed into the rocks, coming up underneath out of the rocks and lifting the piece of wood up and the rope up out of the rocks and sweeping it back out to the ocean among the seaweed. He looked out into the ocean to try and see the shark. It was gone, along with the timber and the piece of rope. Support the show or explore tools and stories: https://earthlight.gumroad.com/

Pablo moved away from the shark as quickly and quietly as he could. He knew he needed to stay calm. He understood that he shouldn't make any sudden movements. No frantic paddling. He also knew his other option was to maximize his size, that if the shark was passing by, if he stayed vertical and looked as large as possible. But he was not thinking of that just right now. And he knew he needed to keep watching it, and if the shark turned towards him, he would have to face it. He needed to keep watching, always watching it. And if it moved, rotate his body to stay facing it. But at this time, he was getting away as quickly as he could, sensing the rocks somehow near. A piece of plastic got in his way. A large plastic bag. It was huge. It was blue. And he could now not see how close this shark was. This plastic bag almost cost him his life. A shark could see Pablo, but he could not see the shark. The water was suddenly a mix of cold and then warm currents, with the current below mixing together with the warmth of the top from the surface. A large piece of seaweed brushed the back of his hair. He shivered and felt an electric pulse through his body. That was adrenaline. That could normally be followed by fear, but he knew he could not let the fear rise up. He told himself that he felt like he was about to panic, but he knew he could not panic. Panic led to bad decisions. These things he knew. Use the adrenaline, he thought. Use the adrenaline to propel him up, towards the surface. He knew he could also get to rocks on his left side, but he did not know where they were. The journey continues next episode.

Something like a rope passed him again. It was not tied to anything. It was floating. It moved slowly, back and forward, like seaweed. Pablo watched it for a moment. It did not feel dangerous. He reached out and pushed the rope away from his body. He pushed it to the side so he could start to go up. His breath was running out. His chest felt tight. He needed to go back to the surface. Then he saw more of it. Not all at once. At first, it was only a shape. A grey shape moving in the water. It did not look like a rope anymore. It looked like skin. That was when he understood. It was a shark. He dived down hard to get away. If you'd like to support this podcast, you can do so here: ☕ Buy Me a Coffee — https://buymeacoffee.com/eattbypablo Thank you for listening.

Pablo had only learned to swim recently. He was in his early twenties. It took him a long time. He worked full time. He also had a part-time job. That day, he swam out from the shore and dived down. He wanted to see the rocks he had heard about under the water. He did not know how deep the ocean was there. Even close to land, it could be very deep. He felt like he was about five meters down. He did not look up at the surface. Something touched the back of his leg. It frightened him, but he kept going. The seaweed was large. It felt thick, like kelp. It brushed past the tattoo on his leg. He could not see the end of it. He still had not found the rocks. This is one story in a series of short listening pieces, made for calm, focused listening.

Perhaps he thought when he got home he could hang his wooden spoons up, although at the moment they were sitting in a great big blue jar—which seemed to be the right place, as then he could just grab them beside the air fryer, you know, that kind of thing, when he was cooking on the run. This was making him hungry now, thinking about all these wooden spoons and the boat made of wooden spoons. He was thinking about dinner. Maybe he could have some nice pasta with some garlic and some black pepper, vegetables, and maybe some olives. He might be able to put some tuna in there too, and he may also have had some fresh herbs, which were also given to him by the woman who lived upstairs, Silvia. You don't need to understand every word. Let the sounds settle, and notice what you follow naturally. Some of these stories drift for a while, and then arrive somewhere familiar — a kitchen, a walk, or a quiet moment between tasks.

After his swim, Pablo decided that he was going to sit down and do some writing. And when he sat down, he suddenly remembered that he had a dream the other night about a boat, and the boat was made from wooden spoons. Why would a boat be made of wooden spoons? That was an interesting idea. They must have been all glued together because the boat was bobbing along quite well in the water, and there was a small crew of sailors sitting in the boat having a lively chat. What were they talking about? He wondered. He hadn't remembered that part of the dream. Was the discussion about coming to land or whether they had just left a big sailing boat and were heading out somewhere, or whether they were heading for land. Not heading for the Li Galli Islands, he hoped—where enchanting songs lure passing sailors. No, perhaps they were going to the land of the Wooden Spoons, where they grew trees for the Wooden Spoons. He wondered where the wooden spoon first came from. He only had a few wooden spoons, two or three, and each one of them he loved dearly. One of his wooden spoons had been given to him by a friend when she returned from somewhere far away, a small country he had never heard of. Another one was given to him by the woman who lived upstairs—the old woman who sometimes reads the cards. That spoon had a great big wide head and was made from a very beautiful dark timber. And the other one, he couldn't quite remember where that one came from. That one he thought he picked up at a store that was closing down that was selling pots and all kinds of things, and they had lots of beautiful Chinese woks and other things. He could afford just one wooden spoon on his way home, and that one was very long and thin and made of very light white timber. Learn English with Cullen is an Australian podcast that has been recognised at the Australian Podcast Awards and listened to around the world for many years. The episodes use short, calm listening exercises and original stories — including the ongoing Pablo series — to help learners develop natural English thinking. With over 175 episodes available on Apple Podcasts and other major platforms, this work continues quietly, one small piece at a time.

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