"Ek sit hier op die lang pad soos so veel kere van tevore en iewers langs die highway het ek my beste pel verloor" - Karen Zoid.
The hazy yellow outline of the fields on either side of the road are kind of a comfort. The fields themselves tough serve two purposes. Firstly, it captivates whoever drives along this road by its absolute beauty. Secondly, it serves as a reminder of how empty something can be.
This is what goes through my mind as I slowly make my way along this old, broken road. I’ve made this drive countless times before, but always with some sort of purpose and almost always with someone sitting in the seat next to me. Now however, its only me, a single bag in the backseat and just under 100 kilometers of open road where I know from experience I’ll pass nothing and no one, apart from the odd tortoise.
The wind blowing in from the open window feels warm. Odd, considering the time of year. The almost bare trees and the orange-yellow light remind me of this. Autumn. A season I’d always liked, but now I’m not so sure.
I glance again at the empty seat next to me, remembering the events that led to this moment. The memories are almost overpowering. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but it doesn’t feel like a year. It feels like an eternity.
I remember the first time I made this drive with you. The first time we drove over that hill and the sight took your breath away, though you tried not to show it. In that instant you saw what I’d always wanted to show you. You saw the one place that meant everything to me and in that moment, you understood why.
As I see that hill in my memories now, I feel my foot press down a little harder on the accelerator. After almost fifteen years the beauty of that town still captivates me, though I haven’t been back in a long time.
As I pulled over at the beach, you asked me how one place could mean so much to me, though I knew you already understood. You were always the closed one, but I saw that you were slowly, finally letting down your walls. As you got out of the car I saw the world in your eyes. Those emeralds that stared down into my very soul and heard everything I’ve never been able to say. When you looked at the beach for the first time, at the waves breaking in the sunshine, you didn’t think anything would surprise you. When you looked back at me, you were at a loss for words. I remember the look on your face. Your smile. Suddenly, neither the mountains nor the beach held my attention.
Now it was my turn to be speechless.
Lost in the memory, I almost miss the turn-off. Barely a moment later, that familiar pothole notifies me that I don’t have that far to go. Smiling silently, I put my hand out the window to feel the warm wind. This old road never changes.
As I finally near the hill, I feel myself suck in a deep breath. As the car nears the top, I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white. Suddenly the car reaches the top and the age old-town is laid out before me.
A few minutes later, I find myself winding through the familiar streets. Autumn has reared its ugly head here, too. Leaves scatter the empty streets. The old, run-down petrol station still bares the faded ‘welcome’ sign and the liquor store is still right next to the church. It’s a comfort to know that some things never change.
I don’t even realize that I’ve stopped until the locals’ faces stay the same. Some wave at the car as they recognize it. A few of them remember me. I smile and wave back as I get out of the car and start walking toward the beach.
As I get to the railing, I slow down and reach for it. Suddenly, as I feel the cold metal under my palm, a thousand memories come flooding back. As a smile spreads slowly across my face, the wind the wind picks up and gently plays with my hair. I smile wider as I feel you all around me and hear your voice in the breaking waves.
This was the one place I could always go. For comfort. For peace. For rest. I’m happy to know now that it’s the same for you.
The hazy yellow outline of the fields on either side of the road are kind of a comfort. The fields themselves tough serve two purposes. Firstly, it captivates whoever drives along this road by its absolute beauty. Secondly, it serves as a reminder of how empty something can be.
This is what goes through my mind as I slowly make my way along this old, broken road. I’ve made this drive countless times before, but always with some sort of purpose and almost always with someone sitting in the seat next to me. Now however, its only me, a single bag in the backseat and just under 100 kilometers of open road where I know from experience I’ll pass nothing and no one, apart from the odd tortoise.
The wind blowing in from the open window feels warm. Odd, considering the time of year. The almost bare trees and the orange-yellow light remind me of this. Autumn. A season I’d always liked, but now I’m not so sure.
I glance again at the empty seat next to me, remembering the events that led to this moment. The memories are almost overpowering. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but it doesn’t feel like a year. It feels like an eternity.
I remember the first time I made this drive with you. The first time we drove over that hill and the sight took your breath away, though you tried not to show it. In that instant you saw what I’d always wanted to show you. You saw the one place that meant everything to me and in that moment, you understood why.
As I see that hill in my memories now, I feel my foot press down a little harder on the accelerator. After almost fifteen years the beauty of that town still captivates me, though I haven’t been back in a long time.
As I pulled over at the beach, you asked me how one place could mean so much to me, though I knew you already understood. You were always the closed one, but I saw that you were slowly, finally letting down your walls. As you got out of the car I saw the world in your eyes. Those emeralds that stared down into my very soul and heard everything I’ve never been able to say. When you looked at the beach for the first time, at the waves breaking in the sunshine, you didn’t think anything would surprise you. When you looked back at me, you were at a loss for words. I remember the look on your face. Your smile. Suddenly, neither the mountains nor the beach held my attention.
Now it was my turn to be speechless.
Lost in the memory, I almost miss the turn-off. Barely a moment later, that familiar pothole notifies me that I don’t have that far to go. Smiling silently, I put my hand out the window to feel the warm wind. This old road never changes.
As I finally near the hill, I feel myself suck in a deep breath. As the car nears the top, I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white. Suddenly the car reaches the top and the age old-town is laid out before me.
A few minutes later, I find myself winding through the familiar streets. Autumn has reared its ugly head here, too. Leaves scatter the empty streets. The old, run-down petrol station still bares the faded ‘welcome’ sign and the liquor store is still right next to the church. It’s a comfort to know that some things never change.
I don’t even realize that I’ve stopped until the locals’ faces stay the same. Some wave at the car as they recognize it. A few of them remember me. I smile and wave back as I get out of the car and start walking toward the beach.
As I get to the railing, I slow down and reach for it. Suddenly, as I feel the cold metal under my palm, a thousand memories come flooding back. As a smile spreads slowly across my face, the wind the wind picks up and gently plays with my hair. I smile wider as I feel you all around me and hear your voice in the breaking waves.
This was the one place I could always go. For comfort. For peace. For rest. I’m happy to know now that it’s the same for you.
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