A Sunrise, Three Lives, and Fate

                                                                           (Sunrise at our first stop)              (Sunrise at our second stop)

The vibrancy of the sun never looked more brilliant than when it rose and set in western Uganda.  Although I've witnessed the same amber hued orb extending its warmth and radiance to many parts of the world, it has never been a more spectacular sight, (likely attributed to our proximity to the equator), than hovering over the River Nile, seemingly dipping into Murchison Falls, or as the backdrop behind a sprawling acacia tree in Queen Elizabeth National Park.

Following our pre-dawn breakfast, the three of us piled into the yellow Land Cruiser, ready for an adventurous morning of chimpanzee tracking in the Budungo Forest.

With an exquisite sunrise, nestled between the trees and bushes that lined the highway, Ham, our friend and guide, pulled to the side of the road so that we could capture the splendor that rose before us.  After the first few photos, we asked him if he would pull our vehicle up just a bit further so that, this time, we might nab a few unobstructed shots of the sun as it glowed bright orange on the horizon.

Moments later, we were, once again, on our way to observe chimps in their natural habitat. A couple of kilometers up the curving, two-lane highway, a short distance ahead, Ham pointed out a large truck, lying on its side, leaning towards the ravine far below it.

Approaching the scene, it was evident that the truck had been traveling at a speed too excessive to navigate the bend in the road, had crossed into the oncoming lane - (the one in which we would have been driving), hit the guardrail, and flipped sideways.  Noticing that the truck's wheels and the long metal rod on its underbelly were still rotating, my first thought was that the driver might need help exiting the cab, so I suggested to Ham that we pull over to try and assist.

Stopping on the shoulder of the road, Ham stepped out of our vehicle. Shortly, thereafter, I followed.  

By now, Ham had moved closer to the disabled 18-wheeler.  I watched as he lifted his hand and gently touched one of the spinning tires that should have been on the ground, but instead, was aimlessly and fruitlessly revolving with no traction beneath it.

"The wheels are still warm," -

Ham reported, a worried look shadowing his usually genial expression.

Still on the opposite side of the thoroughfare from where I was standing, my eyes never left Ham's - until he he turned away to walk closer to the ravine overlook.  Gazing  into the abyss of the gully, then back at me, I knew.

Crossing the street, I stood next to Ham as we both looked helplessly at the lifeless body beneath us - like a rag doll strewn aside by a hurried child.  Understanding that our presence, nor aid were no longer able to make a difference, with heavy hearts, we trudged back to our vehicle.

We were prepared to alert the authorities about the accident when we noticed a truck, emblazoned with the same company logo as the damaged one.  Ham flagged down the driver and, although I could not hear the conversation from inside the Land Cruiser, I could discern exactly when he explained about the body that lay at the bottom of the ravine, as both men stood with eyes cast downward.

Confident that the proper personnel would be brought to the site, we resumed our drive to the Forest in relative silence, until I quietly offered:

"You do realize that the three of us are still here because of the sunrise..."

Silence, again, as my husband and Ham digested my words.

"It's no coincidence that we stopped to capture the sun, not once, but also from a second vantage point.  Had we not, the timing would have put us in the path of that truck when the driver lost control.  We would have either seen it happen, or been victims of it ourselves."

Silence....

Then head nods....

Then heads shaking in disbelief and relief.

The following are passages taken from my journal on that fateful day, February 8, 2022:

"One last thing before I sign off.  After having seen the wreckage of both a truck and a human body today, my belief in living a life of kindness, gratitude, helping others, finding something for which to be thankful every single day, and making the most of the time we have here, has been fully reinforced by the tragic events of this morning."

"I consider myself a spiritual person....and, throughout the day, my thoughts turned to the truck driver whose life was cut short.  I was hoping that, before he left for work this morning, he told his family that he loved them.  I wish for them peace, strength, and comfort as they learn to navigate a world without his physical presence."

"My thoughts also turned inward, and I readily admit that I said my own prayer of thanks on behalf of Ham, Barry, and myself.  We were under a protective hand this morning, which leads me to believe that I have a lot of work still to do while I inhabit this earth."

A tenet to which I cling is that there is no such thing as coincidence.  People, circumstances, and challenges are placed in our paths for reasons that we will eventually come to understand.  While I wish that I'd not had to bear witness to the tragedy that befell the man behind the wheel of that truck, it is my choice to find the meaning in my being present at that moment.  It will always be a reminder to me that I am fortunate, relevant, and alive.

The beauty of each sunrise and sunset that I behold still takes my breath away.  Now, when I close my eyes and lift my face to the sky, I silently acknowledge and wholeheartedly believe that, having paused for just a few short moments on that pivotal daybreak to fully appreciate the magnificence of the rising sun, I understand its indisputable influence on my life that morning, (along with two others'), and that it is, in fact, the reason I am still breathing.

© Cre8ive Writes, LLC  2022