Interlude 1 My House in the Woods

Extract

What comes to my mind is my house in the woods with no neighbor in sight, a home I have to defend not against real burglars or imaginary terrorists but against deer that eat my flowers and raccoons that break into my porch and all that at a 15-minute drive from a superb library. I see the peaceful emptiness of the land. I see myself driving or riding my motorcycle on, say, Interstate 70, somewhere in Arizona or New Mexico perhaps along the legendary Santa Fe Railroad with barely a car on the magnificent highway. With some justification the USA is reproached for being the world's worst polluter yet it invented and maintains the most glorious National and State Parks. I recall the Natchez Trace running from Mississippi to Nashville Tennessee, a fine two-lane road with no buildings (not even a gas station) along its 443 miles (710 km), or the Appalachian Trail, a mountain footpath for hikers which extends over 2100 miles (3400 km). To those who equate America with New York it may sound surprising, but the overwhelming majority of the population of the United States leads a quiet, undisturbed life. One pays one's taxes - and is left alone in everything else. Years can pass without the need for any contact with the so-called ‘authorities’ to arise, and when it does - on city, state, or federal level - the contacts are usually pleasant. People elect their sheriffs, their judges, the employees of the court house, all of whom, to keep their jobs, try to be helpful. In the soup-kitchen where I have occasionally served, a good, appetizing meal is offered free of charge to anyone who comes in, with no questions asked about need or identity. Many who come could afford to buy themselves a meal.