Watching White Horses

I’m currently in Simon’s Town visiting my parents.

This morning I found myself sitting quietly in my room, the window open to the sea. A cool breeze drifted in and brushed softly against my cheeks while the seagulls called to each other somewhere outside. From the distance I could hear the hum of excitement building along the route.

It’s the morning of the Argus Cycle Race — the event I grew up knowing by its old name, although today it’s officially called the Cape Town Cycle Tour. For as long as I can remember, this race has been one of the markers of the Cape Town calendar.

I imagine the cyclists now, somewhere along the peninsula, pushing through the early kilometres of the race. Some of them are chasing personal bests. Others are simply hoping to make it to the finish line. Along the route, supporters gather to cheer them on, their encouragement carrying through the morning air.

But as much as I can hear the race unfolding in the background, my attention keeps drifting somewhere else entirely.

To the sea.

More specifically, to the white horses rolling steadily across the water.

There is something deeply calming about watching them. The waves move forward with a quiet confidence — no rush, no hesitation, simply the steady rhythm of motion. They roll in, break, and pull back again before gathering themselves for the next approach.

Watching them has a curious effect on my mind. The small worries and restless thoughts that usually circle through my head begin to settle. The background noise of everyday concerns softens.

It reminds me of something a client once said to me.

English was not his first language, yet he had a remarkable way of expressing ideas through metaphor. One day he described the way people sometimes move through life like this:

“Some people have curtains covering their eyes so they can’t see clearly. The only things they see are the small gaps between the curtains — and those small gaps shape how they see everything else.”

He paused before adding another thought.

“But you can choose not to have those curtains. You can choose to open your vision so that what you see has meaning.”

Watching the white horses this morning, I thought about that.

Because just beyond the sound of the race, the cyclists are also moving forward. Each of them travelling their own route along the same road. Some are racing, some are pacing themselves, and some are simply trying to keep going.

But every one of them is moving forward.

They trust the road beneath them.

They trust the path they have committed themselves to ride.

And perhaps there is something in that for all of us.

Sometimes we spend so much time questioning the direction of our lives that we forget the quiet power of simply moving forward.

Like the cyclists on the road.

Or the waves rolling steadily toward the shore.

There is a lesson in both