Sounds like a cliché

I stop at the side of the road, after reasoning aloud about the necessary steps: although I have already driven several kilometers, since we have been here, driving in the left carriageway, in many cases I still have to repeat aloud, or at least mentally, what I have to do and in what order. In this case it was easy: before and after ours, there are no other cars. We are passing through an area of rice fields: they are arranged along a gentle slope. You can see the patience of centuries that was required to make them, these rice fields.

There is a gentleman, under his hat, doing country things, maybe checking to make sure everything is okay. He's walking on the edge of the rice fields, among the paddies. He is walking back to his truck, small that makes you smile, which is parked not so far away.