The Road - Silence and Distance

Between one place and another,

there is the road.

Long, quiet, and indifferent

to what we carry with us.

The hours pass almost unnoticed.

The landscape unfolds gradually, repeating itself, then changing just enough to be felt rather than observed.

Conversation fades, replaced by the steady rhythm of the road.

In that quiet, distance becomes tangible — not measured in kilometres, but in the way time stretches and the mind loosens its grip.

There is a particular kind of silence that only the road allows.

Not the absence of sound, but the absence of urgency.

Thoughts arrive slowly, stripped of their insistence, and some never arrive at all.

What remains is a rare clarity — the feeling of being exactly where one is, with no need to move faster or look ahead.

On the road, outside Cape Town.

By the time the destination comes into view, something has already shifted.

Not in the landscape, but in the way it is received.

The road has done its quiet work — creating distance, allowing silence, making space.

And whatever waits ahead arrives more gently, because of everything that came before.