There is something different about the highway at 1:00am. The change isn’t tangible but everyone feels it. The day has been spent casually driving towards your destination, there were stops for meals and scenery, but by nightfall, if you are to reach your goal, the journey must now begin in earnest.

There are those who choose to go no further. The night is full of danger and shelter is found easily along the roadside. Motels with warm beds and meals are occupied by those with less resolve. They look out on the determined few from brightly lit windows before pulling tight the blinds to hide from themselves. There is much more in store for those who stayed the course.

Now the car crosses a bridge. Thick fog obscures the path and the driver casts about for a reassurance of safety. The haze hides their poles but looking into the sky reveals a row of sodium lamps lighting the fog on fire. In the murk of 3:00am these orange sirens call us towards the brink. The driver is suddenly exhausted as the car seems to float in a sea of soft orange clouds. The mind reels in confusion now unsure of where to steer. A sudden thump jolts us back and with it the bridge is behind us, the fog dispelled, and the road stretching far beyond the feeble headlights can show.

Later on a car might pass, the only sign of life seen in hours but neither driver dares to look up from the road ahead. What would a glance, however brief, mean now? It is a trespass into our very being. To be awake at 4:00am is to be alone with your oldest desires, fears, and regrets. Look away until morning when we can again hide ourselves in the daylight.

The danger is not over yet however as the car now charges towards a tunnel, the yawning maw of light opening beneath a dark mountain. The tolls force cars into tight knots before releasing them to a storm of whirling white tiles and flashing lights. Most cars stay within the lane and emerge cautiously on the other side but there are those who became caught in the violent motion and start to dart between the lanes. Around the lost steering wheels are gripped with white knuckles we must forge on; there can be no stopping or slowing here or we are all surely gone.

Finally the car breaks free of the tunnel from emerging on the other side. The cars once bottlenecked inside the mountain with us now fly to their own destinations, our uneasy companionship gone. Looking east the sun is beginning to rise. The journey is over; now the destination awaits.