Black vinyl chairs with chrome base and arms. Mirrors. A schefflera in the waiting area. The front of the shop one great window. Little bottles of nail varnish, peach and metallic taupe, red and hot pink. Patrons and stylists chatting comfortably while scissors snip and goo is lathed on strands of hair separated by foil squares. The nostrils contract at the scent.

It could be any modern beauty salon.

But from a dryer chair and its heavy hinged bonnet, one looks out across the parking lot and 2-lane road.

A field of sugar cane, bright green, rustles in the sun.