Reading the signs...

There's a scene in the movie Under the Tuscan Sun when Diane Lane has walked into the house, Bramasole, and said she'll buy it. She hasn't even looked around in it and the old Italian lady owner is ambivalent about selling. The owner is convinced though, when a pigeon poops on Diane Lane's head right in the middle of the living room. "Un Segno!" she cries, "A sign!"

I've been thinking about signs lately but I don't believe in that kind, the kind from above, instead I've been thinking about road signs. In Basel last Friday I couldn't read the French and German instructions quickly enough and ended up in short-term parking instead of long-term. Costly error.

I don't know what a lot of the highway signs mean here, which is occasionally a problem when I'm going over 100 km/hr. This sign near my house, though, is pretty clear in any language...



I can hear my Mom now saying, "How do those frogs know to cross the road between 7 p.m. and 6 a.m.??"