Notes on an accident

So this morning we woke to an incident happening right outside our front door.

An accident.

A pretty significant one. In that all three emergency services had been called out. And that the roof of one of the cars had been cut off.

Some things I observed, and thought, which I thought might be worth recording. Or at least, trying to remember:

I am amazed that the sound of the collision happening did not wake either of us up. I thought that I had had a psychic wobble in my dream, and that did involve some sort of violent rupture; or maybe this is now just my desire to not to have missed the accident playing itself back.

Sand, the piles and and piles of sand left scattered, by the traffic islands, by debris. And, casual as you like, leaning almost forgotten against one of the fire trucks, two brooms.

Being able to walk up one of the cycle superhighways to the station, on the opposite side of the road, and how transgressive that felt, especially when you were able to do so because of a risk not coming off that you passed 100 yards ago.