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Yearning for a little quiet time this winter

Yearning for a little quiet time this winter Yearning for a little quiet time this winter

Of all the poetry I studied in college, my favorite poem is Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” The poem describes the thoughts of a lone wagon driver who stops at night in his travel to watch snow falling in the woods. But he is unable to enjoy the serenity for very long as he has miles and miles to go on his journey.

A quiet winter night is one of life’s real treasures. It gives one an opportunity to escape all the noise that is common during an ordinary day, and it provides an opportunity to enjoy some real “quiet time.”

I find it increasingly diffi cult to find quiet time. It seems no matter where I go, I always have to deal with noise. Whether it is the constant sound of the television at home or traffic noise coming from a nearby highway, quiet time seems more elusive each year.

I recently went to my six month dental cleaning and when I walked into the waiting room, not only was I greeted by a chatty receptionist, but I also had to listen to the local “adult rock” radio station. When I finally went into the examining room, I was immediately asked if I wanted a radio headset. Which I readily declined.

Being I have always liked quiet time, Dorchester was the perfect place for me to live while growing up. Being a mile west of Highway 13 meant there was little traffic in town other than local traffic. So we never had the big trucks or summer tourists going through town at night. Several weeks ago, we were at Wal-Mart and I was sitting at the adjoining Subway attempting to read my book. However, the music they were playing was so loud I could barely hear myself think, much less concentrate on my reading. I noticed an Amish woman who had come in to get sandwiches. I immediately wondered what she must have thought about the terrible noise. I saw her looking all around and up at the ceiling as if looking for the source of the noise. I can only imagine how eager she must have been to return to her quiet life back on her farm. And, at that point, I was almost wishing I could go with her.

Ken Anderson, the “Mayberry Guru,” can be reached at and www.themayberryguru. com