'It has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale.'
― Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

The lean white-haired woman (think Jimmy Carter's mother) passed my sign coming from behind me this morning but she must have seen it head-on before because she raised her slender arm with a thumb up over her head as she was just past me and hollered 'You go'.
I don't know what to say back to such people. I usually just raise the sign toward them. It says it best. It reinforces what she liked enough to commend as she walked by today.

IT'S LATE-AUGUST QUIET these days along Chambers Street where I hold my sign on weekday mornings. I think the message could change the world so I go there with it no matter.