No sooner had I cursed the council for not gritting the icy paths than ambulances and paramedics started appearing for the elderly who had slipped. Even I, a wild beast with surer footing than a mountain goat, slipped twice (I blame it on my tyres not my feet since I was cycling). As I cycled around the shires this mid-January morning, I had to pay extra attention to the way, and move at a much slower pace.
As I started employing this sharper sense of seeing and navigation I never slipped again. The black ice was still there but now, thanks to my moving a little more slowly and my taking that little extra care, I could see it and thus avoid it.
By 'screening and scanning the horizon' and further down the line, I could see what was coming and prepare for it. Unlike the old man I saw at Elderslie being lifted onto a stretcher about to be carted away to hospital.
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