Footnotes from my Week #4

It’s sometimes surprising where driving and writing takes you.

Photo by Shrvan Mandal on Unsplash

There’s no sun this early, only me and a full moon passing sleepy Monday houses. It’s cold, and I try not to think too cold. I have a place to be this morning, and if not for that I’d be in no rush to head out on this first day of winter either. I’m not sure if it is the cold or the dark or both that I choose to avoid, even with a coffee and the car heating on high.

Beyond the twist of suburban streets and houses I overtake a single jogger and then a person walking a dog. I know my dog would refuse to take such an early morning stroll. I wonder if she has even shifted from the warmth of her bed yet. She generally stations herself street front and alert to the ‘goings on’ of the neighbourhood when I’m out. Perhaps she knows there is rain on the way, and the sky will remain bleak.

At the highway intersection I’m treated to a peloton of cyclists. Momentarily caught in my headlights they rush past in dreamlike synchronicity. A shutter speed illusion has them moving in filmic flight, and if not for the matter of timing I would have missed them. Strangely timing has been playing around in my head of late. Perhaps it is the whirring of life that drives what I can only think of as unsettling.

I’m no longer alone, there’s traffic either travelling north towards, or like me, beyond the city centre. Early workers, Uber drivers, in-transit travellers: folk with destinations I can only guess at. A momentary distraction before I sidle left into a looping lane that carries traffic over the western edge of the city centre. Now’s not the time for meandering thoughts; I have to squeeze in behind a ladened semi before this lane takes me off in another direction. I’m relying on planned connections and a bit synchronicity to get me to where I’m going.

It’s really nothing big to drive across the city. Easily done in autopilot, but I’m more inclined to watch the changing vistas of sky and city. Pre-dawn is a light show of crafted high-rise buildings, architectural peculiarities externally which I expect are less glamorous inside (but I can’t be sure). Maybe that’s a story for another day.

Once past the city I am on time and almost there, according to my clock. I’m more than excited to greet the family at the other end. They should be there waiting in a grey morning light. I haven’t heard anything from them yet and you can never tell with flights and arrivals on a cold winter’s morning.