A car whipped past, the driver eating and a passenger clicking a
camera. Moving without going anywhere, taking a trip instead of making
one. I laughed at the absurdity of the photographs and then realized I,
too, was rolling effortlessly along, turning the windshield into a movie
screen in which I, the viewer, did the moving while the subject held
still. That was the temptation of the American highway, of the American
vacation (from the Latin vacare, "to be empty").
―
William Least Heat-Moon,
Blue Highways
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