On the road

A stationary position with one foot on the accelerator seems like a modern meditation. But you're moving, vibrations on the steering wheel tell you so. Moving faster than you can really imagine - just a blurred drone if you saw yourself from the side of the road.

Watching the scenery close in and recede past the windscreen is a strangely calming experience. In the early summer all is lush, fresh and idyllic. Nothing is seen in close up, and from a distance no imperfections of daily life are visible.

Stopped, for a moment to pick up a punnet of strawberries in a layby on the road. The woman's arms are brown and ample, her fingernails brown also. Gorging on fruit with one hand not looking as you pop each gritty haired, knobbly ball into your mouth, the smell of childhood briefly fills the warm, plastic air.

Each journey on a well-travelled route is an echo of a previous trip, another motivation, summers long past but still alive in the picture book of your mind.The space in between leaving and arriving is filled with memories and future imaginings, place names pass quicker than time, a single stretched out moment on the road.