Warning Signs

A warning sign
I missed the good part then I realised
I started looking and the bubble burst
I started looking for excuses

Come on in
I’ve got to tell you what a state I’m in
I’ve got to tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign

When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you

Warning Signs. Coldplay

RIP. For years now I have been trying to learn how to recognize one – a rip current. Or Rip, as the Aussies simply call it. For years I’ve tried to understand it. Every Australian sees it. Every child learns it at Sunday morning Nippers. Even Peppa Pig knows what it is!

Ocean rip currents happen when waves crash onto the beach. As the water moves back out into the ocean, a strong current can occur. It looks like breaking waves with a gap in the middle. That calmer, darker area in the middle is the rip current. Easy right?

I just don’t see it. Until I felt it one day, but by then it was almost too late. Getting carried out into the deep dark ocean (okay, I wasn’t really more than a few meters away from the beach, but it was scary!) and finding it impossible to swim back to shore. Paddling, paddling, paddling but getting nowhere. The only thing you can do: float and stay calm. I’m not very good with either one of those.

I’m much better at seeing signs from the safety of my green wooden bench at the beach: A clear sunrise (my favourite) – fair weather to follow. A red sky in the morning – a storm is on its way. Low-hanging clouds bring rain, the high wispy ones show good weather. My favourite are the pink ones that look like cotton candy floating in the sky.

The winds are important at the ocean and have a lot to say. The nor’easterlies blow all summer, while the southerly, their troubled counterpart, brings storms and bad weather. A westerly wind in the winter makes the waves great. If it wasn’t for those rips!

And then there is the wildlife! The animals in the water that one needs to look out for: bluebottles and blue-ringed octopuses, stingers and sharks. I probably wouldn’t recognize those either until it was too late. For goodness sake – I thought the small blue creatures washed up at the beach were laundry pods, and that snake with the red belly at school would make a good selfie shot! It’s not like there aren’t any obvious signs – you just have to know how to read them.

Good thing the Australians are very good at signs. Warning signs. Put up anywhere and everywhere: that sign warning me about a rip current, and the one about the bluebottles. A sign for snakes, one for crocodiles, and one for children at play (a dangerous species on its own). Australia is huge on warning signs. And rightly so. Australia is home to some of the most dangerous animals and surroundings in the world. As such, they don’t mess around when it comes to trying to keep people safe.

These days, from my green wooden bench at the beach, double-shot cappuccino in hand, I watch the waves and think about how the world seems to be caught in its own kind of rip. The irony isn’t lost on me – I see bright yellow signs warning of imminent ocean dangers, while across the globe, countries are being pulled by currents no one saw coming.

The warning signs in the news from distant shores remind me of those calm patches of water hiding rip currents – they look harmless until you’re caught in their pull. Just as I mistook those dangerous bluebottles for laundry pods, I can misread or dismiss the early warning signs of troubling changes. It’s often not until we’re caught in the pull that we realize the strength of these undercurrents.

Being in Australia, tens of thousands of miles away from Canada or Europe, it is sometimes difficult to engage with the world and what is going on. At times it is even tempting to give in to this state of paradise bliss, the feeling of not really being a part of the problems in the world. Ignorant, I know, but true. At least for me. I read the paper, I watch the news, I talk to friends and family back home to stay informed. I register to vote – even from afar – because I want to be aware of what is going on around me.

But do I see the signs? Do I notice the black clouds building at the horizon, or do I brush them aside to take yet another picture of a stunning sunrise? Do I notice the rip at the shore or do I wade into the ocean nonetheless, distracted by the beautiful things around me?

From my bench, watching the sunrise with my coffee in hand (in a keep-cup of course!), I can’t help but wonder – by the time we feel the pull, will it be too late to swim back to shore?