You meet them not long after coming from a quiet place, where you have noticed the small catkins of the hazel, not long formed, which, in a couple of months will be long, dangling and bright yellow; where the liquid amber leaves are taking on a deep purple/almost black hue; and within seven or eight miles you are head on into the vast rush from the city.
How, you wonder, do people manage, physically, to stand the daily trek, first into the city to work and then the 20, 30, 40 and more miles back again to the quiet of houses near Navan, Kells and, it is said, even as far as Virginia? And five days a week, year in, year out? Oh, say some, the radio is a great help, or a series of good tapes, even to following, in this way, a good book.
"No alternative," some may say. "Couldn't get a house in Dublin or near it." And once you've taken the step, it's better for the children, they say. Green fields, good, fresh air, trees, streams and rivers: "Nature, old boy." The parent, it is argued, then has two days of recuperation in clean-air surroundings. Well, unsung heroes and all that. There are hazards in returning, tired, on a long journey in darkness. A perfect example the other day. You are driving citywards in the gloaming, leaving the usual safe space between you and the car in front. Suddenly in between you comes this artful dodger, leaving you too near him. You know what comes next. His rear light goes on to show he means to make a dash again for a gap and sure enough he's off not heeding angry tootings from cars coming to face him. You soon lose sight of him. But at this time of evening, progress both ways has to be slow, for as many people seem to be going Dublinwards in the now deepening evening light. Be glad you are not coming an hour later. One friend says that recently when he left the return to Dublin somewhat late (he had to do the dishes), it took him an hour to get through Dunshaughlin. The queue of stationary cars north of there was half-a-mile long.
Coming out in the morning, you notice just now what seems a huge increase in lorry traffic. Is it distributing all our Christmas goodies? Hellish slow anyway, but not dangerous until you meet one of them, the driver, released from the slow trail on the main road, feeling that these side roads call for a burst of speed to make up the time. And maybe just to show a bit of exuberance.
So, watch yourself in your car, at every corner on the lovely, quiet road you used to know. Be prepared to climb up the ditch. Y