Reading the Sign Posts

I think for a gal born in the Bronx projects, I've come a long way. I few years ago my wife and I moved out of the city to a little cottage on the north shore of Lake Erie. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not astounded at the beauty which surrounds me.

On my daily commute to work I drive past vineyards and fields of corn, soybeans, hay and tomatoes. There's other things that grow out here but being a city gal, I can't always identify the crops as I drive by. These are soy beans and a vineyard behind a barn.

In the last couple of weeks they have been bringing in the hay.

Everywhere I turn is yet another beautiful vista of a panoramic sky over fields stretching out as far as can bee seen. Sometimes, when the light is just right, the views bring tears to my eyes.

I drive the same way to work each day and when I reach the main road that takes me right into the city I pass a series of telephone poles.

Someone has nailed little signs on the first six poles. I read them as I zip by at 80 kilometers an hour. And as I think about the day ahead, this transplanted city gal smiles and whispers her thanks. Here's what they say: