The River of Returning

We spend our lives in transit. Moving from one place to another, convinced that the destination holds the meaning we lack. We sit in metal boxes, watching the glass blur, waiting for the red lights to turn green. There is a specific loneliness in being surrounded by thousands of others, all of us moving in the same direction, yet entirely alone in our own thoughts. We are ghosts in a machine, tracing lines of light across a map that never ends. The city breathes in cycles of arrival and departure, a pulse that beats regardless of whether we are watching. We think we are going home, but perhaps we are only moving to be somewhere else. Is there a point where the movement stops, or do we simply become the light itself, fading into the grey edges of the evening? What happens when the engine finally goes quiet?

Robert Vega has captured this restless pulse in his image titled After Work Traffic. He shows us the river of light that flows through the veins of the city. Does this movement feel like a journey to you, or merely a way to pass the time?