The man came into focus behind me on the road. It had been a while since I had faced the rear in a vehicle, but this had little else in common with being turned around in the back of an old station wagon. The man eventually overtook us but he didn’t seem rushed. He drove alone. His was full of hay, ours was full of new friends.
The road was wide and lined with tall, lithe trees, no longer bare. Maybe they were alders, or maybe they were poplars, or maybe they were neither. It wasn’t busy on the road even as we left the large market, and the man was able to line himself up next to us with ease. We took each other in, his appearance as typical as ours was atypical.
The man let me take his picture as he matched our speed. Me perched and leaning, him with eyes off the road ahead, we both lived precariously for a moment to together view his smiling eyes on the display.