And watching the passing trees and streaks of lights on River Avon that flowed alongside the car, I thought about where I am, a place so far from what I used to call home, from people who I used to call family and friends (not that they are no longer), far from things that I used to consider so important, sitting in a car of a guy who I never imagined I would meet ever in my life, and who I reckon I would never ever meet except for a one in a six billion 'chance'.
How crazy is that? It made me feel afraid about the enormity of how life has taken me for this ride. When I sat down and the beginning of this journey, I thought I was going for a ride on a bicycle, but now looking back I realise I have boarded a massive train hollering through a tunnel, too fast to even afford a view outside anymore.
I felt humbled. Like watching a roaring waterfall and knowing that it could sweep me from my feet and dash me against a great rock, and at the same time marvelling at the power and beauty.
Clearly life is beyond me. I never pressed the Start button. Someone else did. And I believe that that someone else will press the Stop button whenever he/she feels right. I only need to sit through it with a bit more faith.
I watched mist drape a branch of pine lit by street lamps, orange and unmoving next to the traffic lights. Reminded me of something so familiar. This little scene in a corner unnoticed by anyone else but me. Just a bend of streets, overlooked by drivers only concerned to make sure that they catch the first green light that comes on.
Maybe that little corner is a person waiting to be noticed. Standing, beautifully in its own manner. Patiently, waiting on God. Waiting on people. Waiting on lights. Waiting on mist to come and drape her for such a night as this.