Traffic · fifteen cities, read live
How fast it is moving.
Right now.
Fifteen metros on one desk, from New York to Tel Aviv. New York publishes a live speed for every stretch of road it measures, and the coordinates of that stretch come with the reading — so every line on the map is a measurement rather than an illustration of one. They are drawn over the city’s own shoreline, taken from its published borough boundaries, because a road you cannot place is not a road. Every figure beside it is arithmetic over those same readings.
Not one of the other fourteen publishes that without a key. Every transport authority was checked; all of them show their telemetry on a map of their own and none hands the numbers over. So those cities carry what is genuinely open — the weather service’s active alerts where it reaches, and the conditions on the road right now, of which visibility is the one figure that is directly a road reading. Where a city has no speed feed the page prints a dash and says who holds the data, rather than drawing a number nobody measured.
reading the wire…
The city
Fifteen metros, and what each one publishes.
A city is only as good as the feed under it. New York runs sensors on its own expressways and publishes the readings openly, which is why its map moves. Not one of the other fourteen does — every transport authority here was checked, and all of them show their telemetry on a map of their own without handing the numbers over. So those cities carry what is genuinely open: the alerts in force where they are, and the conditions on the road right now. Every card below is live before you press it — the temperature and the visibility there this minute, all fifteen in a single request — and the three marks say which feeds that city publishes: Speeds, Alerts, Conditions.
The desk
reading…
The map
The roads, inked by speed.
One line per reporting stretch of road, coloured by how fast traffic on it is moving — drawn straight from the coordinates the feed carries, over the city’s own published shoreline. No tiles, no key, no map company: the ground is New York’s five borough boundaries and the water is the space between them. Hover a line for its name, its speed and how old the reading is; hover anywhere else for the borough. Filter by borough below and the map lights that borough with you.
The map
The roads
Every stretch, one row each.
The whole reporting set, not a top ten: every stretch of road the city is measuring right now, with the speed it is moving at, how long it is taking to cross, and how old that reading is. Sort by any of them. Open a row and the page pulls that stretch’s last twenty-four hours out of the archive and draws it.
The reporting set
The day
One stretch, twenty-four hours.
The hours ahead
What the road will be like.
Twelve hours of the three things that change how a road drives: how far you can see, how hard it is raining, and how hard the wind is pushing. This is the only band on the page that is a forecast rather than a measurement, and it says so.
The air
What the traffic leaves behind.
Particulates and the air-quality index where the roads are. It is the one number on this desk that is a consequence of traffic rather than a description of it — and unlike a congestion score, it is measured.
The statistics
Counted, not modelled.
Each of these is arithmetic over the readings on the map: how many stretches are reporting, how fast they are moving on average, how many are crawling, and how long ago the feed last spoke. There is no congestion index and no predicted delay, because the public data does not carry either and inventing one would make every other number here worth less.
The bulletin
What is happening on the road.
Incidents, closures and construction from the transport department’s own register, and the weather service’s active alerts for the same area, merged newest first with the source stamped on every item. Nothing is ranked and nothing is summarised — it is the wire, in the order it arrived.
The wire
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