How do I smell the ocean when vehicles drive along the sand? These signs need to talk more. (Admittedly, they are on opposite edges of the United States, but that is a technical detail.)
While we are on the subject, maybe it’s just me – and my sheltered Californian upbringing – but…
Dear Florida, it seems so very wrong to drive on a beach.
(left sign: Oxnard, CA; right sign: New Smyrna Beach, Florida)
(The WP Weekly Photo Challenge is to establish a dialogue between two photos.)
With my kneejerk rebellious streak, I am usually offended when somebody tries to control parking on what is, after all, a public frigging street!
However, when I see this tilework sign, which graces my day with additional beauty, I am much more willing to comply.
One night this business was here, the next night there was no sign of it. (Insert Twilight Zone theme song here.)
Okay, maybe not the very next night. Maybe several months later. Anyway, the point is, when I took this picture, I didn’t notice the phrase underneath. Now I’m trying to see the ends from the middle.
*EVER YOU ARE, WE’RE AL*
What’s your guess?
The WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge is Letters.
You know that feeling after a car window shatters and deposits a bizillion bits of glass on the concrete, then you walk across the glass in your steel-soled shoes? Worse than fingernails on a blackboard, huh? Well, that is what these signs do to me.
The WP Weekly Photo Challenge is Letters.
Thanks to the bumper stickers, the politics of this car’s owner are clear. However, at least one of the stickers is unnecessary, telling us what we have already figured out. Can you spot the redundancy?
Sidenote: due to genetics, or birds-of-a-feather tendencies (or both), the person who goes with this car is visiting this neighbor who remains fixed on the U.S. 2012 presidential election.
Twice a week, the exercise class I have attended for years meets under a certain freeway overpass. The other day, I discovered a note scrawled in the concrete. I had never noticed it before. Now, I have a long history of not noticing stuff, but when I asked around, nobody else had previously noticed it either. Perhaps we are all oblivious, or perhaps the message is an indication of intense longing, sufficient to carve long-dry concrete.
I LOVE ART BERMUDEZ.
Note the final curl to the final letter, rendering a heart from the Z.
I don’t know anyone by that moniker, but man do I love that name! Arturo Bermudez. I can guarantee that one of my novels will include a character by that name. In fact I am tempted to use this for a character in my fantasy detective series, FRAMES. The character is currently named Hernandez.
What am I thinking? FRAMES is finished and in revisions! To change a character’s name is to change the character; to ditch “Hernandez” at this point would be a kind of murder. And I love Hernandez. Everyone who has read the book loves Hernandez.
I do look forward to meeting the fictional Arturo Bermudez soon; probably in book two of FRAMES. Meanwhile, I hope the concrete scribe and the real-world Art are doing well, together or no.
(The current WP Photo Challenge wants to see “unexpected”.)
When you enter Mandalay Beach in Oxnard, California you see a sobering sign:
Welcome to our beach. You’re on your own.
Now, millions of folks in California speak Spanish – and quite a few of them speak Spanish, only. Recognizing the need for a sign in Spanish, attached to the back of this sign is the same warning, translated to Spanish:
Something to talk about as you head home.
Just one problem. You won’t see this sign unless you are leaving the beach. So. If you speak Spanish and you survive your day in the Oxnard waves, as you depart you will learn just how lucky you are.