The writer John Gardner died, two miles from his house after a motorcycle accident. I've been reading one of his books called On Becoming a Novelist and in it he describes, in a writer guilty kind of way how he and a buddy came across an accident where a young pregnant woman involved was bleeding to death. And though he did everything he could, and his buddy too, in his mind, as the writer, he was taking notes on how she bled, reacted, emotion and all the humaness surrounding this woman's death. I wonder what sort of lasting details or impressions went through his mind as his bike lost control and he crashed to his death....