From my front window:
The periodic swoosh of cars going by.
People walking by beneath my window, quietly talking and laughing in various languages. This is amplified on weekend nights, when revelers exit the local pubs.
Occasional brief siren blurts by police cars, as they let said revelers know they’re around (there’s a station about two blocks from here).
Rarely, a cat in heat.
It’s too cold now for insects, but there were some singing into the night up until just a few weeks ago. In the daytime, there is a lot of birdsong, but not at night.
From my kitchen window at the rear, I frequently hear low conversation, the clink of glasses, and forks on plates. People tend to cook, eat, and drink on their balconies until late autumn.
On Sundays, underneath all other sounds is the beat of drums from the nearby park, all day and long into the night.
And there are church bells every night at 6pm, of course.