The North-South highway is very familiar to me by now. I know exactly where the roadworks begin and end, where the winds blow diagonal to the road (one must slow down when the winds are too strong), the stretch of road where the Sun will shine directly, blindingly ahead, the various billboards, when the streetlights turn off (they are set by clock rather than light intensity so they always turn off at 7am despite the dark) and at night, where the two broken streetlights flicker like lightning.
Most of all, I am well acquainted with the mountain range in the horizon. How it's countenance changes with light. The skies are never the same. Daybreak could be a golden glow in the horizon, a hue of yellow to purple, a clear blue, a salmon pink with magenta clouds. Even the night skies seem to have colours, sometimes indigo, sometimes purple, but mostly the skies look maroon at night.
And then the Moon. The moon is full nowadays. I was mesmerized by a yellow, crisp view of the moon just three days ago. Another day the moon wore a halo of light, the next, nestled in stormy clouds. I find myself looking to the skies in the mornings to see what state of beauty the moon appeared as on that day. It feels like a private conversation, that first glimpse. Sometimes the morning sky is so clear I could see the moon all pale and ghostly against a backdrop of blue. I determine it an absolute heaven-sent blessing during such occasions; when both the moon and the sun share the skies and my mortal eyes are fortunate enough to witness it.
One find ways to soothe the soul.
In contemplating his environments, the changing beauty of nature, Man finds respite from this ratrace we call making a 'living'.
In my own way, in those moments I quietly drive through the day and night to a place most hated (I am weak in my ungratefulness),whispering dzikirs and duas in my heart, I seek peace, shelter and strength in Remembrance.