I miss other people’s houses. I miss the sounds of other people’s homes. Inside noises. A new neighborhood. The small thrill of someone else’s familiar space, examining their walls. Pulling books off the shelves. I miss the feeling of a sleepover, the vague sense that someone’s making me dinner or preparing a couch bed. Being a guest. Going on a trip. Waiting on someone to get ready so we can go out. Waiting for someone to get home so we can stay there.
My colleague Jenna shared WindowSwap in the work Slack today. It’s a site that shares looping videos of people’s windows, submitted from all around the world. Of course the new outdoor views are welcome. But what I really love are the towels drying, the pets, the books and radio stations and potted plants of the homes inside.
Some of the windows I looked out from today
Twickenham, UK where the trees swayed in the wind as a storm blew in and this version of “Higher Love” played on the radio.
Bangalore, India. This dog wagged its tail at me shyly, a phone vibrated on a hard surface, and cars motored by in the distance.
Hyderabad, India. The steady sound of water running, the fan rustling the curtains, and, curiously but not unpleasantly, Vince Guaraldi Trio’s “Christmastime is Here.”
Sherwood, Oregon. The doppler sound of a motorbike jetting past on a nearby road. A dog barking insistently far in the distance. Occasionally, the pitter patter of typing.
Long Island. Seagulls, feet shuffling on a hardwood floor. Two women talking, indistinctly until one of them says “Whaaaat?!” The sound of a door opening—a shower running—and closing. A helicopter passes by, skimming the top of the frame.
Berlin. A rhythm, regular as a metronome, something dripping or tick-tocking. Birds chirping and fighting and calling, most familiar and one strange and ghostly.
Singapore. Complete silence. I thought a jet was flying overhead, but it was the fan blowing next to me in the room I am in.
Glasgow, Scotland. The sounds of air moving, probably a fan. Kids playing outside. Footsteps going up stairs and a door shutting against a long hallway. Heels on a nearby floor. A pet bird singing. A woman talking to, probably, the pet bird, her voice high and tender.
An accidentally home-themed list of recs
I finally read In the Dream House and wow, wow, wow
I also finally bought a big comfy chair for my office, highly recommend if you have the space and you’re sitting in the same desk chair all day otherwise (I got this one in light gray)
New here? Subscribe to get these posts in your email.