Milo and I were walking on the bike track near what we call Rowan Corner when I noticed that the ferocious ring-road was strangely quiet. The Air Ambulance taking off, and the flashing blue lights in the morning gloom gave the clue. Our path took us right past the pile of clothes on the road where a pedestrian had been hit; it did not look good. The studied activity of the rescue workers contrasted with the silent lethargy of the drivers in their muted cars. Walking back home the traffic all over York was gridlocked in weary resignation.
Today I discovered that the person hit by a vehicle was Clarke Carlisle, the smart, politically active footballer who used to play for York and Preston amongst others. All very sad.
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