In small towns like ours, projects don’t just happen. They evolve—over months of conversation, collaboration, negotiation, and a whole lot of trust. From the first spark of an idea to the final paint stroke on the ground, the journey is rarely linear. The colored crosswalks now brightening our downtown were first imagined back in February. We hoped for a May installation. June, in the end, was our window. Weather, logistics, and the realities of coordination across departments stretched our timeline, but what remained constant was our shared belief that the project would be meaningful—that it could bring a little joy, a little beauty, a little something different to our streetscape.
The results were, mostly, everything we hoped for. There was genuine surprise and delight from many. People smiled, pointed, took photos. We have heard from locals and visitors alike who feel the colors add life and welcome to the town. Our beloved public works crew who installed them—working overnight hours—shared how much they enjoyed being part of something creative and different. That, in itself, was a quiet triumph: a project that brought fulfillment not just in the outcome, but in the doing.
But not everyone loved it. And while that’s hard to hear, it’s also part of the reality of doing public work. Some responses were unexpectedly harsh, and it caught us off guard how something as seemingly simple as color could stir up deeper, even political, emotions. Still, we hold onto this: community isn’t about everyone agreeing all the time. It’s about being willing to move through disagreement, together. It’s about believing in one another’s intentions, trusting that most of us are trying to do something good for the whole. And when a project finally lands—after months of conversations, late-night texts, committee meetings, and weather delays—it’s a reminder of how much effort it takes to make change in a small town, and how worthwhile that effort can be.