I would have taken a picture, but it was too cold, and I didn't want to take my gloves off. You'll just have to take my word for it.
I glanced around--it was not yet fully light out, and I considered my options for being noticed by a bus driver despite not having a blue sign and a green sign directly above my head.
|Imagine there is only one green sign on the pole, and that it says "200." And that the sign is lying on the ground. And that it is snowy and foggy and dark and cold and wet and solstitial outside.|
Then I realized the sign was frozen to the ground.
The oft-mentioned-yesterday freezing rain had apparently arrived after the sign had fallen to the ground, because the signpost was encapsulated in the layer of ice that covered the sidewalk. It took several tries, and several grunts, to get it out of the ice, but I managed it.
The next challenge was to balance the sign on the light pole so that it would stay upright. The signpost was heavier than I thought it was, and it wasn't as though my footing were exactly firm and unchanging, but I eventually got the sign lined up the way I wanted. I let go, and for one tantalizing second the sign stayed upright . . . but then it started tilting to the right, clearly intent on returning to its icy slumber from which I had so rudely disturbed it.
I grabbed the sign again, placed it on the pole with more feeling, and the second time it stayed. I planted myself next to it more assertively than usual and fixed my piercing glance on the theoretically approaching bus. It came a few moments later, and my plan mostly worked--the bus driver didn't realize I was waiting at a stop until she was almost on top of me, but she did stop a little bit in front of me, and I was able to board the bus without undue aggravation.
What do you know, I even made it to work this morning.