Signs of Home

Four signs along Silverado Drive, and then no more. As if you had to know now where to go, or miss it.

So we searched up the street, and down, finally picking the correct turn, into a cul-de-sac.
The signs reminded me of a United cross-country flight I once took to Dulles. My parents and I had agreed -- I'd take the shuttle bus. But they were waiting near baggage claim. I smiled -- home at last. It didn't matter that we still had another 25 minute car ride to go.