2023/29. SIGNS

556. That’s the number of miles per hour we travelled today, in our chairs up above the clouds. At least that’s what the sign on our in-flight monitor said when I tapped flight tracker. We went from the mountains of northern Utah, across the horizontal landscape of the United States, then across the Atlantic Ocean and ended up in London without even having to have a bathroom stop. Every time I fly I imagine the incredulity that every one of my ancestors would have felt at the prospect of doing what we do without even a sigh of wonder.

My sister Ann Marie and her husband Michael met us at Heathrow in their car. They are here for a year serving as missionaries / temple workers in the London LDS Temple. The temple is closed for maintenance and cleaning these next two weeks, so off we go with them to explore a bit of the UK. 

View of the back of the London Temple from my sister's window.

Scrumptious Scottish salmon for dinner in their dining room.

Dave and I were afforded an hour nap, then we took a ride to try and stay awake as our bodies adjust to the time being seven hours ahead of what we are used to. Ann Marie drove. On the wrong side of the road. Unless you live in the UK, then it’s the right side of the road and all of America is wrong. First of all, the passenger seat up front is where we are used to the drivers sitting. My legs act all confused when I get in the car with no steering wheel to grab. Then there are the round abouts and turns that go in the counter-intuitive direction.

“If I were driving, I want you to know, we would all be dead by now” I commented, totally impressed with my sister’s maneuvering skills. I told her they should get a sticker for the back of their car that says AMERICAN DRIVER. Cars like to honk at her. She ignores them. We could all use a little more patience with other drivers on our roads.

Then there are the roads themselves; narrow, windey, shoulderless pathways against which the ancients planted their hedgerows. I feel like we have been sent down into the vortex of a funnel from the extra wide roads Brigham Young designed for Salt Lake City into the thin neck of the motherland, where you have to pull over, or even back up when a car from the other direction peeks around the bend. When you think about it, the amount of sheer energy we take into our hands as we hurl ourselves forward, we should all be dead!

British roads wide enough for one car.

So in my sister’s little “let’s try to keep you two awake till bedtime” ploy we drove to a little castle town called Reigate. Only the castle is no more. There is, however, a strange old sand cave or tunnel, which was closed. And part of a mote. It’s no wonder the castle is gone. It was built a thousand years ago. We Utahns think old is pioneer era, maybe 150 years ago. Here their doorknobs are older than that.

While driving, in the rain of course, because we are in the UK, I snapped a few pictures of signage that struck me as symbolic, especially for this phase of our lives. Dave does not need to check his emails daily on this trip. He won’t have to sign a single warrant. We don’t have to worry if the kids are ok with the babysitter, or if they are doing their homework while we are gone. We just don’t quite know how to handle this freedom. There is a strange feeling of liberation in structure. Change was a bit easier when we were younger. 

I especially liked this sign. So much so that we drove around the circles of this old town multiple times trying to find it so I could snap a photo. Don’t you think it’s a peculiar traffic sign?

I had to Google it to see what in the world they meant by it. Basically, what I founhd was that people should be aware that an intersection ahead will not have the expected flow, so you’d better pay attention.

Its perfect for us in our lives right now.

The big stuff that were priorities remain so. But some of the immediate requirements in our daily lives is taking a shift. We need to remind ourselves often to keep our heads up rather than plowing ahead as before.

Then there was this sign right after that one. Let the old give way to the new.

AKA YIELD

And then this. All these within a block of each other.

Careful, I tell my figurative self, not to head the wrong way on a one way street. Even if it feels counterintuitive. Keep on the designated path that people I trust have shown me. At least until I get to the wild open spaces where there is no traffic and no one to run into.

It’s not all that late here, just after 11 pm, but my eyes that woke with the sunlight in America are getting heavy this night in England.

Tomorrow is a new day. And it’s Dave’s birthday, so we are off to Londontown for museums and a West End show.

So night-night, Cherio and Tata.