Signifying

On my way to Walmart this morning, this caught my attention:

Having not seen it before (I usually drive a different way), I returned after my shopping, parked up a hill, walked down, and snapped.

It's a beautiful billboard: bold design against late fall sky, burnt orange border checkered along the bottom, metal support and stairs and wires and cables framing it. 

I didn't realize till I got halfway home that I had misread the billboard. Instead of a message against drug use (We'ed), I read it (We'd) as a protest against the signs of the times -- spinning, bullying, taunting, worrying, hating, accusing, and especially sorting and othering of those without power and the degradation that comes with it.

A sign of my own dis-ease, perhaps, this accidental misunderstanding.

You go, girl!

Thanks, Thumb's Up Jesus!

Wonder if

an undergraduate on the way to the dorm ever took this turn?

Sometimes, I wonder about road signs.




And about the people who decide where they should be placed.

Sign Reader

Might look like a lake to you, but today it's a bike dump.

It's the Little Things

like three new signs at the top of my street: NO PARKING BETWEEN SIGNS.

Imagine driving round a blind curve, made blind by road-hugging tall hedges, and finding three small children walking directly at your car. That's happened to me, and it's a wonder I didn't hit them or a tree trying to avoid them.

Now add the School of Theology students (adults, mind you, not adolescents) who insist on parking along my street beginning at the end of that hedge, add the three children and a car rounding the corner, even at a very slow speed, and . . . well . . . you can see what we've been living with here, for many years.

Not any longer! The College has happily done something about it. Now if the powers-that-be will also do something about those dadgum hedges . . . .