Further in toward Vielau, the same field, with a better view of the chair. I wonder what the view from the chair is.
An arm of the Autobahn, by the way, is but 50 feet behind where I’m standing, so this is like any little country road along any highway—there are a couple up the Northeast Extension; one in particular I see whenever I drive west on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, before hitting Reading—that curl in from behind some trees and stroll for a quarter-mile or so parallel with you and your speed-fueled companions in tractor-trailers and other cars. My eyes follow the small road for a second or two, wondering whose it is, and how long they’ve had it, and how long they will have it—all that is easy to wonder in a second or two—until I remind myself where I’m driving, and by that time it’s gone.