The 2 finger salute.

Dusty roads

Sometimes it’s just the one.

You know the scene. You’re approaching another vehicle. The first one you’ve seen in a while. It’s most likely a ʻute’. And definitely not “shiny”. And usually it’s a lone male driver. Maybe wearing a hat.

You draw close enough to lock eyes, and your finger twitches at the top of the steering wheel as your bonnets pass. Sometimes it’s the whole hand. But it’s always such a slight movement, any passenger would likely miss it. But the drivers – they know. In that fleeting moment, there’s connection. A bond. You’ve been seen. And seen.

Acknowledged.

Wordless.

Minimal physical effort.

You wouldn’t want to overdo it. Out here, that could easily be misunderstood.

You probably have nothing else in common. Except you’re both out here. And not a lot of other people are. And in that, there’s respect. An understanding.

An understanding that fades in the dusty haze in your rear view mirror.