IT is supposed to be the king of streets. Deriving its name from the old Danish word for king, Coney Street has been a proud principal trading point in York since Viking times.

But today the ancient thoroughfare is at risk of being treated like any old suburban road.

Some will question why there is any fuss about painting yellow lines on Coney Street. Parking is banned here, double yellows are the universally-recognised symbol of that ban: where's the harm?

If someone raises this argument in public, do them a favour. Before they embarrass themselves further, take them to one side and explain.

Explain that York is not just another English city. It is not a place to be defaced by municipal graffiti like some sort of northern Basingstoke. It is not a work of modern art in progress, defiled at the whim of transitory bylaws.

York was here long before the motor car. And, assuming our addiction to the petrol engine is not terminal, York will be here long afterwards.

Explain, if they are still listening, that York has evolved into a city of magic and beauty because generations of citizens have guarded against the casual debasement of its streets. We are not immune to the ugly rash of street signs and tatty merchandising that has erupted on the face of every urban centre. But we do not accept this fate with the torpor of other city dwellers.

People here care. That is why Shambles was preserved, why Coppergate II was thrown out and why we hold an inquiry into the paintwork of a pub.

Yellow lines should not scar Coney Street. A more imaginative use of the colour is required.

Bring on street artist Mr Yellow as the sunshine traffic warden of our king of streets.

Updated: 11:35 Friday, December 12, 2003