roadside

yesterday morning i drove back home from midrand.

early.

after an overnight stay in someone's newly rented contemporary-style rondavel in randjesfontein.

i'd never done this reverse homeward drive before, and had usually only associated early morning N1 highway time with anger, frustration and sleep deprivation.

but this drive, although slightly affected by an almost daybreak start, was unexpectedly relaxing, with traffic free-flowing all the way past the purple banner of the jacaranda 94.2 radio station headquarters to the eeufees turnoff.

in view of the monolithic voortrekker monument, which you can see from a distance on the drive in, like a stationary chess piece on the tshwane-surrounding hills.

i'd expected to be stuck in pretoria-bound bumper traffic, upset that i'd had to leave the confines of a warm blanket in the not-so-well-insulated rondavel.

but instead, i was able to take in the surrounding to-work bustle, including the honking, stopping and sometimes less than roadworthy minibus taxis and the single files of people along the gravel roadsides waiting to board them.

on the main road out from the boomed-off rondavel plot, on the old johannesburg/pretoria road, i also noticed two traffic controllers in mint-green getup, their white-gloved hands signalling, circling and waving. an indication that i was actually following the correct route to the N1/N14.

which i found easily enough, after i'd hairpin bended around to find the highway entry on the opposite side, the swirling mass of cars on opposite bends, and the thick stream of johannesburg bound traffic another reminder that i was going in the right direction.

home.

past green, weedy stretches of open land between mega corporate structures, where clusters of people in neat walking lines, some wearing noticeably flapping bandana head-scarves, made their way to the roadside, probably to signal in taxi code where they were headed.

or to find a highway over pass to cross to the other side.

which i saw few of.

and only one that was being used to connect to a different road, maybe a different form of transport, by a lady with an afro, black heels and black long-skirted suit, who looked like a determined penguin with turned-out feet while trying to make her way sure-footed up the muddy-ish mound from the highway to the bridge.

which made me think about the dedication it takes to get to work.

the lengths some people have to walk.

the variety of bus/taxi routes they have to take.

or the traffic they have to endure and navigate.

and while making my way at about 100km/hour, listening to the always catchy, almost calming beats of glen lewis' mid-tempo millenium mix down, i was thankful that for once that i wasn't in rush to get anywhere.

except home.

to eat, check my email, write and maybe catch up on sleep.

for a change, i was not part of the morning rush, but could appreciate my roadside view of those who were.

and are.

even those who aren't working the typical desk-job day.

like the suburban joggers, dog-walkers and highway-side construction workers, or the nannies that take late afternoon chat breaks on grassy suburban pavement lawns, next to makeshift sweet stalls.

even if all of them aren't part of the energetic, stressed, morning/afternoon rush, they at least have some kind of purpose.

which regardless of employment status, i like to think i do too.