11am: Travel. The quietness of some days. Roads mostly empty, at least once certain crossroads have been left behind. A hazy grey. Winter and autumn sleeping in the valleys, shy, mostly unnoticed. (Heading for the hills, the fields, the forests again. Not noticing the distance to shrink. Familiar trips. Different moods.)

Returning. Focus on the distance ahead, yet distracted by piling input still unprocessed. Houses. Communities. Empty seats. Other memories by far going beyond all photographic evidence. Time, amorphous and transient. And a moon above the meadows. 

Die Stille zwischen Dörfern. Abseits der Städte, der Gleise, der Autobahn. Ein Huhn kratzt in Dreck und Laub. Leere Straßen, leere Plätze, keine Menschen. Nur zwei Engel, verwitterter Stein, neben der Kirche. Aber immerhin Sonne. 

4pm and on. Bags on the backseat, computer powered down yet kept close for now. Randomizing routes again, this time much more physical and much more annoying. Or: Heading for the woods, cautiously trying to stay out of the way of all the aggressive demanders to encounter out there. Right lane, keeping distances, just fast enough to still notice birds in the trees.

10am and on. Along roads again. Leaving the hills behind, roads leading through dark forests for now. Sometimes, different routes are taken, different luggage carried, waiting to get to the distant city again. Humming engine. Not thinking too much.