There are good flags and there are bad flags. And, of course, it's all relative to one's particular situation.
Here are some good flags. In my opinion. These Tibetan prayer flags brighten my tiny gray-walled patio, help to conceal the equally gray plumbing pipes that run down the back of the front house, and share good thoughts and wishes with every passing breeze. I think they're lovely; my neighbors think I'm weird. "The Heart Sutra? Huh?"
These flags – not so good. Oh, sure, they look delightful against a beautiful blue sky. The problem is what they mean. And that is – gale warning. One flag is a small craft advisory; the boats to the mainland will continue to run, but you will probably have quite the fun ride. Once that second flag goes up, a few more boats may depart, but soon that will end. If you're on the island, that is where you will stay. And if you're caught on the mainland, it's time to hunt down a hotel. No going home tonight.
These red flags appear to have psychic powers. They always know when I am heading for the mainland. If I put on an overtown outfit ( "good" jeans, a nice tee, and the newer clogs) and head for the door – oops! – up goes one flag. Should I persevere, by the time I get to the dock there will be two flags.
I had planned to visit the new Liscat yarn store in Long Beach on Saturday; it has been commented on quite favorably in Ravelry discussion threads, and intriguing pictures have been posted as well. But the flags found out. So instead I had a delightful, wind-blown walk along the harbor and admired the crashing waves. I still intend to visit Liscat, but I'm trying not to think about it too much. (Shhhhh. They're listening.)