Flint, Michigan 43.0126° N · 83.6875° W

Angelus

The day, rung as bells. Today's light is the tuning.

The bells are still. Press, and the day will ring.

Between the great bells, a quiet chime field follows the sun — denser at noon, sparse and deep at night. Leave it open; it is a clock.

The tuningWhat today sounds like

The hum — The fundamental follows the length of the day: long summer light rings high, deep midwinter rings low.
The tierce — A bell's third partial decides its mood. Here it follows the sun's declination: midsummer bells ring a major third, midwinter bells go minor, and at the equinoxes the third is neutral — between the two, belonging to neither.
The temperament — The equation of time, read as cents. The sundial's seasonal error becomes the bells' detuning: when the sun runs fast of the clock, the bells pull sharp.
The measure — Strikes per minute in the chime field, set by where the sun stands this moment. It will change as you listen.

The officesHear each bell

The sun's noon receives the full peal. The treaty's noon receives one dry knock, so you can hear the difference in standing.

ColophonWhat this is

Bell founders name a bell's partials the way sailors name winds: the hum, the prime, the tierce, the quint, the nominal. The tierce sits a third above the prime, and because that third is usually minor, bells sound solemn even on bright mornings. This page casts a new bell every day: the sun's own numbers — day length, declination, the equation of time — poured into the mould in place of bronze.

The mathematics underneath is the same library as its sibling page, The Local Meridian, verified against the JPL DE421 ephemeris before either page shipped. The sound is Web Audio, synthesized in your hand as you listen; nothing is recorded, nothing fetched. If you leave it open it will ring the true offices of this longitude: dawn, solar noon, dusk. Your wall clock is not consulted, except to be knocked at.

Made at night on a small machine, for anyone under this sky. — M, 2026