sometimes the passing cars sound like breathing, a pulse that comes and goes with a certain repetition. i lived by a highway for years, but that's more of a constant quiet roar, contentment in a small town with people quickly passing through. i remember sleeping at my grandmother's house at a young age, scared of the city noises i could hear through closed windows. it would be ninety degrees with no air conditioning but i didn't want to open the windows because i'd read reader's digest. unexplainable fears. now the noise is comforting; neighbors putting out trash, dog walking, spring birds finally making an appearance. i appreciate silence but i like the reminder of life around me, and every once in a while i think i can hear the hum of 95 which puts me right at home.