Today I spotted this sign, a sign I had walked past all week without seeing. It sits on a corner, opposite the newer sign, the sign that you see when you walk toward my dead end street. You can’t come from the other direction anymore. I love this old sign. It is hand-painted, hidden, a remnant. It faces the wrong direction from the way you approach the street, from a time when it mattered. Now you see the sign as you leave, not when you arrive, if you know how to pay attention.
There are always new things to see even when you think there is nothing new to see. Or learn. Like in a good rehearsal, discoveries right in front of your eyes are sometimes the sweetest.