Sometimes, when I ride around, I tell myself to look for America, to look for scenes that speak to the nature of the country, past and present, something the photographer Robert Frank did so brilliantly in his book “The Americans,” a strong influence on me and on the subjects I might choose.

Riding down a back street in North Bennington, on the way back from Jay’s Art Shop, we passed this lot filled with cars. In America, most car dealers now look like airport terminals or mini-malls, they are leeched, like so many things, of individuality, personality and community. A “pre-owned” car dealership in New Jersey looks like on in Nebraska, so I was struck by this car lot, it spoke to me of the days when buying a used car was a rite of passage, a crap shoot, you might get a great deal, you might not, all of these cars had been brushed clean of yesterday’s snow.