by Ingrid Prohaska
On that Friday afternoon I drove my car on the highway out of the city. A lot of others did the same, so there was a lot traffic, but it worked fluently.
After a few miles I noticed the brake lights of the cars in front of me. The traffic stood still and so I had to stop my car.
I looked around. In front of me cars as far my sight could reach. Left of me cars and behind me the number of cars got more and more.
I looked out of the window on the right side and saw the nature. And although I had driven that highway several times I had never seen the beauty of the landscape beside the highway before.
I saw the fields and the meadows, a small forest and a brook winding its path through the scene. Far away I noticed a village; I could see the tower of the village-church. And I saw a country lane leading to the village; a single car was driving there seemingly slowly.
Suddenly I felt locked in and a desire of being part of that scene in the landscape instead of being part of the scene on the highway and in a crowd of cars arose.
I hadn’t thought about what I did, when I turned the steering wheel to the right and drove my car towards the slope. I heard some horns trying to alert me while my car was rolling down the slope. I reached the bottom of the slope and felt the car setting up. The car rolled out on a meadow. I opened the window and sighed relieved.
Finally I reached the country lane I had seen from the highway.
I felt the air on my face and leaned back. The noise of the traffic on the highway got lower and the sound of the nature was going audibly.
The feeling of freedom replaced the feeling of locked in. I enjoyed moving again and I was looking forward where this path would lead me.
Copyright © 2007 Ingrid Prohaska