Reading the signs
Written by Abbi Flint (Newcastle University), Rebecca Lovell (University of Exeter) and Sonia Overall (Canterbury Christ Church University)
In this piece we reflect on the range of formal and informal signs seen along rights of way and what these might convey, in terms of both meaning and affect, to those who encounter them.
“A highway authority is responsible for the rights of way in its area. Its duties include erecting and maintaining signposts wherever a footpath, bridleway or byway leaves a surfaced road, and waymarking those rights of way where, in the authority’s opinion, it is necessary to help anyone unfamiliar with the locality to follow the route.”
The formal waymarking guidance from Natural England (above) illustrates how, from a government perspective at least, signage on rights of way is primarily seen as functional: to guide people through the landscape on routes they have a right to use and protect landowners from ‘trespass’ and ‘misuse’. In some cases, signs also let people know how they can travel along routes, e.g. symbols for horses and cycles, or colour schemes used within waymarking: yellow for footpaths, blue for bridleways, plum for restricted byways, and red for byways. The placing and content of signs is covered within the Highways Act, as this short piece from The Ramblers outlines.
An official byway sign from Wiltshire (A. Flint).
Anyone who has spent time on paths and trails, however, will tell you that these are not the only signs on display. Signs seen on routes may range from these official directional signs, and formally approved memorials and art-works, to unofficial cautionary signs placed by land owners/managers, and informal signs placed by others using the route.
Some signs may also include multiple formal and informal, official and unofficial elements. For example, the images below show a sign festooned with stickers from those who have passed that way, and a sign warning of a bull in a field that has been added to in pen.
A heavily stickered sign on the West Highland Way (A. Flint). A sign on a right of way, and ancient path, in far west Devon (R. Lovell).
The authorship or amendment of signs is not always clear. In Sonia’s picture (below), signs have been damaged, but how? By a disappointed walker, angered by the lack of access? By a disgruntled resident directed away from a useful shortcut? Or by natural wear and tear from the weather? Have the signs been damaged by agricultural machinery, an unintended irony of ownership? Why the plurality of signs on one access point? Sometimes these influences are hard to read or unpick.
Damaged signs by a field in East Kent. (S. Overall).
Signs and access
Signs can facilitate access. They can reassure people that they are ‘on the right path’ and help people who are unfamiliar with areas make the most of those places. Just as they can highlight rights of access, they can also be used to encourage responsible access and expected behaviours. In an official, and perhaps somewhat impenetrable way, this includes the inclusion of lengthy by-laws, but it can also be more personable and educational. For instance, this sign from the Solent Way explains the need for controlling dogs (and provides the leads to do so).
Sign and dog-lead box on the Solent Way (A.Flint)
Signs may also deter access, even on routes that people have a right to use. For example, consider the annotated sign warning of the ‘bull in field’, taken by Rebecca. Maybe, by the addition of the word ‘invisible’, users of the path are making a comment on the apparent lack of bull in the field; that they know the stated threat is without substance and designed to deter walkers. Or it could be that the farmer has tired of walkers enacting their rights without taking their responsibilities: this field, and the well-maintained right of way crossing it diagonally, are used inappropriately. Dogs are let to run free in the field, for instance. Maybe the farmer wanted to manage the threat to their livestock with a warning that, although you may not be able to see the bull, it might be there. This speaks to how many people wanting to use rights of way feel about access. Yes, the OS map says I have right of access but should I, or should I not use the route? Am I welcome? What are the consequences of accessing the route? This example illustrates the complexity of interpreting the explicit - or in this case coded and difficult to understand - signs and symbols of access.
Signs can have potential legal implications too. As noted by The Ramblers’ Association, ‘Landowners must not display signs that mislead the public and try to put us off walking on public paths’.
Signs and affect
Many path users have experienced a sense of relief and reassurance in seeing sign-posts that indicate they are not lost, and still on the path. Signs can also evoke pleasure from their aesthetic qualities [1]. Abbi is rather fond of the dark green Peak and Northern Footpath Society (PNFS) signs found throughout the Peak District; they provide a sense of collective, visual identity for paths in the area. Some informal signs, too, are prepared with great care and artistry.
A Peak and Northern Footpath Society sign in the Peak Distract (left) and an informal ‘footpath’ sign (A. Flint)
Signs may also speak to a sense of place connectedness and memory. The covering of the West Highland Way sign with stickers may be a way of marking one’s presence, of signalling that the route was meaningful to that person or group, and a sense of identity or ownership associated with place. Some markers are more specifically memorial in nature. For instance, the plaque below, placed on a footpath stile, which reads, ‘Thank you for showing me the deer at dusk xx’.
A metal memorial plaque on the Limestone Way (A.Flint).
Less positively, signs may evoke feelings of threat, discomfort, exclusion and danger. Even on formally recognised rights of way, signage can emphasise the constraints rather than freedoms of land access. Signage may focus on what is prohibited and give instructions framed by assumptions that people will behave irresponsibly, rather than informing people of their rights and what access can enable. See for example the extract from Abbi’s poem below, which was created solely from the text of signs found along paths and trails.
To all walkers
Leave no litter. Please
keep to the footpath. Please
do not enter the water. Stop.
Look. Listen. Beware of trains.
Warning – electric fence. This land
is designated access land, however
when red flags are flying, firing is in progress. Please
walk around the perimeter. Please
close the gate.
Do not pass this point.
Public notice, private land.
Access by invitation. No admittance
without authorisation. Private
property. Private land. No
public access. No
public access or right of way. No
trespassing. Private.
Go home.
Take your shit home
don’t leave it here.
Keep out
and enjoy your walk.
What might signs, as texts, signify about power relations on rights of way? How might these signs make users of these paths feel? How does this contribute to the experience of using rights of way?
Summary
We hope to have shown in this short piece that signs are not simply neutral and functional landscape infrastructure. The way that people experience and read signs speaks to legal, material and social relations between different groups of people, and between people and place. Signs can be formal and informal expressions of ownership and connection with place, put up by those in positions of power and those exercising their rights of access. They can serve to both facilitate and constrain access, evoking reassurance and joy or exclusion and danger.
Footnote
[1] An aesthetic conversation with the tensions and possibilities of pathway signage can be found in the work of artist Emily Allchurch, particularly in her series Closer to Home (2021) https://www.emilyallchurch.com/gallery/closer-to-home-2021/#
Note: the idea for this piece emerged through discussions around signage following an In All Our Footsteps workshop in September 2022.
Dr Sonia Overall is a writer, psychogeographer and academic living in East Kent. Her published work includes novels, poetry, short stories, academic articles and features, many of which explore place, the nonhuman, aspects of the weird and experimental forms. Her publications include the poetry chapbook The Art of Walking; walking-writing manual walk write (repeat), pilgrimage memoir Heavy Time and her latest novel, Eden. Sonia is currently a Senior Lecturer at Canterbury Christ Church University, where she runs the MA in Creative Writing.
Dr Rebecca Lovell is a Senior Lecturer at the European Centre for Environment and Human Health, World Health Organisation (WHO) Collaborating Centre on Natural Environments and Health at the University of Exeter Medical School. She focuses on synthesising and translating evidence of the links between natural environments, of all kinds, and health for policy and practice and has undertaken work with and for bodies such as the WHO, Public Health England, Defra, Natural England, Ministry of Housing, Communities, and Local Government as well as Non-Governmental Organisations.
Dr Abbi Flint is a Research Associate at Newcastle University, working on the In All Our Footsteps Project. She has a background in archaeology and a long-standing interest in people’s relationships with their environments, and, more recently, creative research methods. Abbi also writes poetry and has been published in a range of online and print magazines.