This is a feed where all days happen at once. Day 1 is Tuesday March 23, 2021, Day 2 is both Tuesday and Wednesday playing simultaneously, Day 3 is Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and on and on and on.

 

You can scroll through the days here or subscribe to the feed which is updated everyday until it isn’t anymore.

 

 

Day 9: April 1, 2021 Thursday

The afternoon has been sunny, but cool. There is music way in the distance, almost no traffic today except right at the beginning. You can hear an airplane about a minute in. The wind sounded almost cinematic coming through the hollow spaces in the concrete yard below. Ever present, cold and piercing. Not a low rumble, but a steady whistle. There’s a new bird that makes an appearance only once, it moves across the scene. I didn’t see it and I don’t know what kind of bird it is.

Day 8: March 31, 2021 Wednesday

It rained today. It rained last Wednesday as well. By the time 4:45 rolled around the rain had mostly stopped, just a slight trickle and a runoff from the roads and gutters. I heard the traffic light change twice this time, stillness when it was red, cars rolling through rain when it was green. A few more ambulances, I’m just waiting for the entire 4:45 to be sirens. There’s a bird I can’t identify, it’s song is sharp and melodic like a cardinal but.. I’ve never seen a cardinal here. I like how the not-cardinal sounds against the distance ambulances. 

Day 7: March 30, 2021 Tuesday

Today was windy again, but not like yesterday. The wind today felt lighter somehow, like it had some whimsy. My neighbor moved his car out of our back area, but the basketball hoop is still laying down across the concrete. I thought I heard someone futzing around down there, but I never saw them and I never heard footsteps so now I have to imagine it was birds or a cat or.. Maybe just the whimsy of the wind. There’s a very low beat in this recording today, and a new siren, cops this time. Otherwise it’s a quiet, bright day.

Day 6: March 29, 2021: Monday

Today’s weather included a gale warning. By 4:45 the brunt of it seemed to be over, but my neighbors free standing basketball hoop was blown over into our shared drive. There’s an occasional beep that’s new to today’s recording, like something is running out of battery somewhere. And I think, at the very beginning, there’s a cat, but it’s hard to tell under the siren of previous days. There’s another ambulance today, later in the recording. I wonder if, at some point, when there are dozens of days compressed on one another, the whole time will be taken up by sirens?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 5: March 27, 2021: Saturday

 

It’s 4:45 on Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday and Tuesday. The siren from Friday steals the scene and I can’t tell what Saturday and what are the other days. The rain is Wednesday, I know that. The further away from the Wednesday rain I get, the less present it becomes. The birds are Tuesday, but is there a new bird today? A few minutes in and I hear a new sound, something identifiable Saturday – an engine revs and stutters, that’s new.

Day 4: March 26, 2021: Friday

It’s 4:45 on Friday, Thursday, Wednesday and Tuesday. There’s something new and definable, an ambulance. The siren whirrs by, drowning out the Tuesday Sparrows for a few seconds. Why does it seem so long in the movement? The rain from Wednesday tints everything, it adds humidity to every day. Today, Friday, someone is moving around directly below. Someone is adjusting something, their footsteps are so close, it sounds like they’ve picked up something heavy and metal, something that just barely scraped a smooth surface as it was lifted. More shifting and rustling, there’s music still from Thursday but, is there an additional Friday melody on top of it? I’m having trouble telling anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 3: March 25, 2021: Thursday

It’s 4:45 on Thursday, on Wednesday and on Tuesday. The week is overlapping and I’m starting to lose track of what might be outside of the reach of my bathroom window. Sparrows and blue jays sing from Tuesday, the rain falls from Wednesday, but now, Thursday, I hear the squeaking axles of trucks, package trucks, shipping trucks, and a melody that remains constant even when the traffic moves on. Maybe a neighbor? The music really gets back here through the narrow driveway between the buildings. Maybe a celebration across the street?

Day 2: March 24, 2021: Wednesday

It’s 4:45 on both Tuesday and Wednesday. The days are compressing on each other, all time is happening at once? The sparrows from Tuesday linger, but now there’s rain. It’s a slow rain with heavy drops. Water is pooling and dripping from a sloped corner of the building, rhythmically tapping a tin awning below. There’s an occasional car horn, the sound of rubber accelerating in water, displacement and a general wet atmosphere.

Day 1: March 23, 2021: Tuesday

It’s 4:45 and there’s a sparrow hidden somewhere outside of my bathroom window. I hear other birds too, maybe a starling, blue jays. The sounds from the street are sucked in through the driveway between my building and the one next door, then they bounce from the back of a four story concrete wall, to the backs of our houses, against the pavement of the drive, muffled some by the patch of dirt that occupies a third of the back area (it’s early spring, perhaps at some point this will be more than dirt). The traffic stills and music from a car fills the space, it lingers — maybe the light on the corner is red? – and then drives on. The birds remain constant. Children’s voices for a brief moment, then the sounds of work – a vacuum, perhaps? 

I have decided to listen everyday from this spot at the same time and play the days back at the same time to hear what it’s like when everyday is the same day.

Adriene Lilly     adrienelilly()gmail      @iamalilly