This is the Red River. Or maybe it's Lake Red River now. I'm not sure. I just know there is entirely more water here than there should be. And it's been here for months.
These are your normal, every day sort of signs. Taller than me and planted three or four inches from a lazy, winding walking trail leading fisherfolks and river gazers down to where the Red usually flows.
Water grazes the bottom of the bridge. I keep trying to think of something clever to say about this, but keep coming back to what I really think when I see this, and that is, simply, YIKES.
Having grown up in the desert, I had no idea mile markers on waterways existed. (BeeTeeDubs, the look on the face of the lady driving that car coming toward me as I pulled my camera back to my body from having dangled it on the other side of the railing was priceless. I laughed at the expression of horror on her face. Until I realized my husband would no doubt have the same look were he seeing me and my photographic shenanigans. HI, HONEY!)