Scotland - Day 33: Otter Crossings

The otter crossing signs here, like the one on A-77 on the way to Girvan, crack me up.  I have yet to see any otters slithering – shimmying – lurching – scooting – crawling – whatever it is that they do on dry land – across the road.  The image the road-crossing reference begs for is a good joke, as in Why did the otter cross the road?  To – . . . well, you fill in the blank.

But as with similar deer-crossing signs back home, I am always left with the question, How do they know?  How do ‘they’ (whoever ‘they’ are) know that this is where the otters will cross?  How do ‘they’ know that a one- or two-time event is actually a trend, a habit, a pattern?

If it’s so common that it needs a warning sign, why have I not seen any otters?!?

Of course, I really don’t want to see any otters while barreling down a country road at 55 mph or better.  But a hint, a peek, of an otter rearend as it's already made its way across would be nice – just some evidence that otters really do cross the road and that they cross it here would be nice.

As with so many things in life, I am left wondering without evidence from my own experience; and yet, when I see the sign, I do slow down, just in case.

The tension I run into (and maybe I’m not alone) is this: how do I know when I should take the signs posted along the road of life at face value and when I should take them with a grain of salt and when I shouldn’t take them at all?

Jesus chastized some questioners once about their inability to read the signs of the times.

But with all due respect to my Lord and Savior, it really isn’t always so easy.  Faith or no faith, blind-following vision or none at all, it isn’t always that easy to know when an otter crossing is really an otter crossing or when someone’s merely having me on.