If you’ve never been on a two-lane state road through South Georgia, it’s sometimes lonely, sometimes boring, sometimes beautiful. They wind through the endless pine trees, and often open up suddenly on some tiny house or farm that is nowhere near anything, or lead into an isolated town with one traffic light–an island in the sea of woods. I usually end up thinking about what it would be like to live there.

A few days ago we were driving through somewhere, on state road three-digit-something, and there were a few houses on the right. As we blew by at over the 55 mile per hour speed limit, there was this lady.

Blonde, wearing an off-white coat. Standing at the end of her driveway, facing down the road away from us. Just standing there, looking down the road. She didn’t seem to mind the cars going by, or even be aware of them.

She didn’t look impatient or angry or anything. She didn’t move; she just kept gazing down the road. She might have been sad, or maybe that’s just how she struck me.

What was she waiting for? I really wanted to know. What would make her stare like that down the road, oblivious to the cars going by and the people (like me) rudely staring? Was she waiting for her roommate to come back with the car? Her sister to come in from Alabama? Her dog to be returned by someone who found it? Her kids to come home from visiting their Dad? Her husband to come home from war? Maybe just the UPS truck. As we drove by, she just stood there, staring down the road.

“Forlorn” is just not a word that jumps to my mind too often. But that day it did, as I drove by and got an 8 second glimpse at the waiting lady of GA Route three-digit something.