Look up from the screen on the drive home. That road won’t look like this in ten years.

The ordinary version of a place is the version that disappears. Fields become houses, the shop closes, the trees come down, the bridge gets widened, and nobody photographs any of it because it is just the road home. Change arrives slowly enough that you will not notice until the picture in your head no longer matches.

On the next drive, put the phone away and look out the window the whole way. Pick three things along the route and fix them in your mind, or photograph them through the glass. In ten years you will want exactly that, and nobody else will have taken it.