A train window can make perfectly ordinary countryside feel like the opening of a film. A field, a bridge, a row of houses, then a sudden collection of back gardens: none of it requires a plot, but I am happy to watch the scenery establish one anyway. The window seat is doing a lot of work.
There are small mysteries everywhere. A path heading somewhere you cannot quite see. A shed with an unusually ambitious roof. One horse appearing to have a very quiet afternoon. You get a few seconds to invent an explanation before the train moves on and supplies the next thing to think about.
I like that the view has its own pace. You cannot pause a particularly interesting building, so you notice it, enjoy it and let it go. Even an entirely unremarkable stretch has the possibility of a pleasing tree or a glimpse of water. Add something warm to drink and it becomes a rather good way to spend a bit of time.
Not every journey needs to become useful work. Sometimes watching the world move past is plenty. If the scenery includes a dramatic cloud, a tiny station and a horse doing absolutely nothing, I would say the production team has put together a decent episode.
