Auditory Audit

It’s Tuesday, 11:14 AM in Boston, Massachusetts. These are all the things I can hear while sitting on my couch right now.

A steady, but light flow of cars and trucks driving through the intersection four houses down from mine.

Dripping sounds from the water tank in my toilet — which is probably in disrepair — gradually leaking, or draining into itself or something. It’s not a very good toilet.

The beeping sound made from when a large vehicle is put in reverse, combined with the semi-distant and undistinguishable chattering of construction workers amongst the dropping, banging, and moving of things from the building site at the end of my street. There’s also a low whirr coming from what I assume is a cement truck’s mixer turning over and over.

Birds, occasionally. They’re all around my house, seemingly everywhere at once, like an electron cloud of tiny, omni-directional chirps. I heard a seagull a minute ago, too. That was exciting.

One of my neighbors upstairs. I have no idea what they’re doing. It just sounds like they’re mindlessly pacing back and forth and moving all their furniture around at irregular intervals of time like an insane person. I‘m sure it’s something much more mundane, but seriously what are they doing up there?

My fridge, which just turned on. I’m grateful that it keeps my eggs cold and my peas frozen.

I wonder what else I can hear but am not actually listening to in this city, in this world, or in my life. I wonder how often we are listening at all.