Signs of Spring

“Sign, sign / Everywhere a sign / Blockin’ out the scenery / Breakin’ my mind / Do this, don’t do that / Can’t you read the sign?” — Five Man Electrical Band

Five Man Electrical Band frontman Les Emmerson’s popular 1970s song ‘Signs’ struck a chord with many of us back then and still does today. Emmerson wrote the song as a rant against all the signs blocking out the beautiful scenery on a road trip along Route 66 in California, and the corporate America they represented.

Fast forward to 2023 and as pedestrians exploring our urban environment, you can’t get away from the signs.

If Les felt overwhelmed back then, I’d love to hear what he’d say about the thousands of street signs, traffic signs, lost cat and garage sale signs and sandwich-board signs sporting funny sayings clamouring for our attention today.

Not that signs don’t serve a purpose. They’re an important facet of our urban environment — literally and figuratively. Literal signs tell us to stop at road crossings, signal danger, and tell us the many places we can and can’t go.

Figurative signs are all around us, too. As the world wakes up for spring, snowdrops bordering gardens and bright blue Siberian squill blanketing the hills tell us it’s time to get outside for a good, long hoof.

So what effect does all this information have on our mood and experience when we’re out walking?

Signs, both literal and figurative, can be a welcome pop in otherwise boring urban environments full of pavement, concrete and honking cars.

It’s delightful when we come across a kid’s sidewalk chalk drawing, the first daffodils poking through last year’s leaves and debris, a funny billboard, or someone’s creative graffiti on a traffic sign — all things that have the potential to surprise, enchant and fascinate.

“The notion of fascination, the idea of curiosity and awe…we know that those psychological processes are really good for our mental health,” says Jenny Roe, environmental psychologist and author of Restorative Cities, in a recent interview with CBC Spark’s Nora Young.

Roe goes on to say that nature, street art and interesting building façades can also trigger these processes.

I’ll add signs to that list.

Here are a few I’m finding fascinating right now.

Funny signs.

I wonder if these guys were thinking of Les’ song when they made this one. There are signs that delight and then there are signs that surprise and delight. It’s OK to be funny, sign. You don’t have to instruct me or tell me things or warn me or give me permission. You just need to make me laugh.

Reminder signs.

Seriously, slow down. Not just for the kids, for everybody. My good friend Cathy — octogenarian, daily 10k walker and personal inspiration for healthy ageing — was the victim of a hit-and-run at a four-way stop we pass every day. Insurance covered the new teeth, new glasses and an ambulance ride but nothing can cover the pain, mental anguish, and difficulty of crossing that same intersection after someone’s hit you with their town car. Thankfully, Cathy’s got grit, for real, and was back out walking a month. So slow down. For everybody, yourself included.

Mixed messages.

Of course, signs serve a purpose. They help us understand important things such as the road is closed. That the bridge ahead is also closed. That the sidewalk is closed too. And look, there’s a pedestrian route if you just follow the arrows. But which arrows? Like Les encountered on his road trip in California, more doesn’t make the message better — or clearer.

Clear signs.

Feeling lost? The answer might be right in front of you.

Creative signs.

What makes us want to deface signs? I think it’s a ‘you can’t make me’ reaction to the general bossiness of signs, a quick and effective ‘stick it to the man’ move or perhaps a protest against boring efficiency. Most of all, I think it’s an assertion of person-ness: I am here, sharing my creative expression in the most public of art galleries, the street.

And be honest, a little graffiti adds just the right amount of zhuzh, don’t you think? Les would approve.

Happy signs.

What is it about kid art that makes us so happy? There’s joy and exuberance built right into the bright colours and chunky lines. Confidence too: I’m king/queen of the sidewalk. This is my art and I’ll share it with you, my adoring public.

Tomorrow’s rain will wash it away. The next day’s sunshine will bring the kids out to make more. Stable Diffusion can’t touch that.

Curious Signs.

Getting back to Jenny Roe’s comment about fascination, this one gets me every time. I’ve dropped in for lotto tickets, the newspaper when they used to sell it, emergency pop and chips. But I’ve never had the courage to ask about the art gallery. Next time I’ll bring a friend.

Heartbreaking signs.

To me, this sign says “I am here” in a society where so many feel unseen.

Natural signs.

The first daffodils poking through the debris of last year’s garden are a sure sign of spring. There can be frost, ice, or three inches of snow and these determined little buggers will poke their way through, aching for May sunshine and growing taller with each longer day. I love their tenacity, their happy yellow faces and a reminder that life is an inevitable cycle: we’re born, we grow and we die. The trick is to do it with this much joy.

So the next time you head out for a walk, look for the signs. You might just find yourself enjoying the same old routes in new and interesting ways.

P.S. Here’s the song that inspired this blog. I see you bopping your head.