Ever vigilant

I work on the top floor (twelfth) of a building that overlooks a massive highway system. I also see the mountains and stuff, but mostly I just see I-25. I keep a pair of binoculars at work to spy on the traffic. Normally, it is just checking speed traps and the people pulled over, but sometimes there are accidents and those are my favorite things to spy on. It is voyeurism at its worst because I’m there for the misery, not the thrill. Yesterday, my boss pointed out an accident just below us on the highway, so I grabbed my binoculars and wheeled over to the window. I panned down, not bothering to look with my naked eye first and saw a huge pool of blood and gray matter on the street below. I pulled my binoculars away and realized there was a dead motorcyclist on the road. His bike wasn’t too wrecked and his body wasn’t swollen and purple with bruises, but his head was opened and empty on the street. I haven’t been able to find anything on the news and I can’t confirm he is dead, but there were several clues that helped me piece it together. The forensic unit was already on the scene snapping pictures and spray painting lines around the carnage. When they loaded the man onto the stretcher and into the ambulance, the ambulance didn’t pull away for another 5 minutes, and when it did, it didn’t leave sirens blazing. I realized they didn’t put him in the ambulance to facilitate care, but rather to get a dead body off the highway.
The whole rest of the day, I was hyper aware, sensing collisions and accidents on every street I drove on. On the way to my parents’ house, I watched a Miata dart in and out of traffic. At one point, he pulled out partially to change lanes and almost got hit by a Ford Focus. The accident probably wasn’t as close as I thought, but given the time and circumstance, it felt really close. If there was ever was an automobile equivalent of a motorcycle, it is definitely the Miata. Neither would offer much comfort or support in an accident and both are small, quick and hard to spot in traffic.
I drive my car like an extension of myself. I think all drivers do, once they are comfortable with their car. But we forget too often and metal and bone are not the same.