There are many downers actually, none of which mentioned in that poem. People opening car doors right in front of you. Oil patches on roads. Dogs. Heat strokes.

There are many downers actually, none of which mentioned in that poem. People opening car doors right in front of you. Oil patches on roads. Dogs. Heat strokes. Inhaling all the nastiness that a car somewhat protects you against. But in countryside I imagine it could be very nice. Pity I never lived in countryside and never going to be.