This may surprise many of you, but I am a very solitary person.  I get shy and anxious being around large groups of people. I feel smothered and think that everyone is breathing all of the air, more specifically – my air.  Don't breathe my air!! I literally want to crawl into a hole in the ground (sans the woodchuck who normally habitats in said hole) and only emerge when everyone is gone.

Don't get me wrong – I love to talk.  I like people.  I like to socialize.  But I also like my quiet time.

Peace and quiet… ha!  That's an oxymoron in today's society.  I grew up in the country and I live in what was once a rural area.  Somehow the urban sprawl has discovered us and housing developments and storage units have taken over many of the farmlands that once adjoined my property.

I also live half a mile from the interstate, so there's always the sound of traffic motoring down the highways.  Our little side road is always buzzing with 'Concrete Cowboys' and 'Indy 500 Wannabes.'  Shrieks of laughter and music blasting from stereos from the businesses down the main highway somehow filter into the walls of our home.

In Mid-June my spouse and I traveled to Lexington, Virginia for the 28th Annual Shell SuperRigs® Truck Show.  We had a little down time on Saturday morning and made the short trek to the Natural Bridge.  We arrived just as they opened the doors in the morning and were one of the first people to walk the trails.  The sun had not come out in full force yet and there was a gentle, caressing breeze that tousled our hair and tickled our ears as we walked the nature paths of the Shenandoah Valley.

Slowly, my husband and I felt ourselves unwinding – our shoulders relaxed and we reached out and held each other's hands as we strolled under the 20 stories of solid rock that was carved by the fingers of nature. "Do you hear that?" my spouse inquired. I didn't hear a sound.  I stopped and tapped my ears and listened really, really hard.  "I don't hear anything," I replied.

"I know!" he exclaimed.  "Isn't it great to not hear anything?  We are out in nature and all we can hear is the silence of the woods. This was worth of the price of admission just for the peace and quiet."

He was right.  It was refreshing and relaxing to be able to walk and not have to jump in the ditch because you are afraid of being run over by a speeding car.    We walked over two miles and all we heard were the birds calling merrily to each other from the trees and the rushing flow of a waterfall.

Back home, on my daily sojourns with Gunny, I have been tuning into nature and tuning out the noise and hubbub of every day life.  I leave behind the ear buds and music players and instead listen to the chirps of crickets.  I am greeted by the sounds of squirrels chewing us out for invading their space and the crunching of twigs and branches as deer rush to hide in the shelter of the woods.

When there is a slight wind, the movement of the leaves is mesmerizing.  Poor old Gunny is driven to frenzy by the taunting call of a Bobwhite bird.  "Bob White, Bob White!"  Gunny rushes here and there, searching feverishly for Bob White.  And he's staring at me with his head cocked to the side and a perplexed look on he face.  If Gunny could talk, he would be saying, "Who the heck is Bob White and where is he at?"  But Bob White never appears.   I laugh and say, "Bob White, Bob White" and my voice echoes back to me.

Back in my house, I turn off the television set and air conditioner.  I open my doors and windows and prepare for a summer rainstorm.  I listen to the wind roar and I hear the rain beat down upon my awnings. I hear loud cracks of thunder that shake my home.

The next time I am in a crowded environment I am going to close my eyes and imagine that I am walking down a nature trail.  I don't hear the beep-beep of automobiles or the woesome wails of a singer who's been done wrong.  I will hear nothing.  Ahhhhh… silence is golden.