Tag: headlights

Posted in noticing

Car headlights – a close call

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Eugene Triguba on Unsplash

I guess I was on auto-pilot. The sky was just beginning to brighten with the first bit of dawn. It’s a Saturday morning, so there’s little traffic and no school busses on the road.

I saw the headlights. I figured the car would be rounding the corner. But the speed was too fast. The driver came into the curve too wide. The lights came right at me and I knew I better step back. The Great Dane and I stepped a few feet onto someone’s lawn as the car continued right towards us.

It was a close call. The driver barely made the turn. The car clipped the lawn before swerving into the center of the road.

Yeah, I shouted, “Hey!” but I doubt he or she heard me. Whoever was no doubt on getting home from an overnight shift at work. Or focused on their phone. Or zoned out. Or whatever.

I’ll bet they weren’t as startled as I was. They may not even have seen me. They aren’t writing about their close car. Just me.

Most people don’t notice what’s going on around them. They are absorbed in their devices, their tasks, or their worries.

It’s a good thing I notice them.

Posted in Life, night

In the wrong place at the wrong time?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Eugene Triguba on Unsplash

It happens on an early morning walk with my dog (big dog, little dog, or all of the above), while it’s still dark. Or on an evening walk after the sun has set.

I see the headlights of an approaching car. Or I see light from a car coming up behind me. I walk close to the edge of the road. We have no curbs or sidewalks in our community, so I get right up to the edge of the grass.

I slow to let the car pass. The car slows down. I look down so I’m not blinded by the lights. Or I glance back, wondering if they see me. As I cross in front of a driveway, that is the very driveway the car enters. Of all the driveways on the road, I am in the middle of that one when someone arrives at their home.

This happens more often than not. So I wonder, “Is it coincidence?” Why did our paths converge at that moment? Am I in their way? Or are they in mine? I could have walked a little faster. They could have driven slower. Why did we meet at that hour, minute, and second?

It happens once or twice a week. Too often to be coincidence. But there’s no rhyme or reason to the encounter. It’s pure irony that the moment I walk past a driveway, those residents are pulling in.

Sometimes I am really annoyed by this. Why now? Why didn’t you drive a little faster? Why didn’t I leave a little later? Why are you in my space – or why am I in yours?

I imagine they ask similar questions. “What is he doing here so early in the morning?” “Doesn’t this guy ever sleep in?” “Give me a break. I just worked the overnight shift. Get out of the way.”