I had to smile when I turned the corner. My heart welled up with unexpected happiness.

This stirring did not come from the sight of a young robin prancing around a small mound of bread crumbs, unsure whether to frolic in his food or gorge himself, or from the radiance of a golden dahlia, its petals opening in endless rings around itself.

I came across a fire hydrant, bright crimson and close to the ground. Its silhouette was so familiar to me, yet, over my whole life, I probably can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen one in use; gushing.

Seeing this squat piece of iron blooming out of the ground was a welcome reminder.

So many things change all the time, but some things don’t. Lately, I’ve felt bombarded by a never-ending stream of technological advances I didn’t ask for and wanted to celebrate that this familiar protective device operated as it always has.

According to Wikipedia, a fire hydrant, also called a “fire plug,” is a connection used by fire fighters to tap into a water system. “Pillar type” or above ground hydrants, the most common style in North America, have been around since the nineteenth century.

Fire hydrants allow a firefighter to attach a hose and open a valve to access water from an underground supply. Pumps on fire engines allow streams to be directed with extra force. Valves are either open or closed. For the most part, water flows or not.

Hydrants may be painted light blue or green, yellow, orange or red depending on the amount of pressure they can support, but the basic design is the same.

Hydrants represented quite an improvement in minimizing loss from fires since volunteer fire departments managed “bucket brigades,” carrying water in containers on horse-drawn buggies.

Why would this be such a welcome sight?

I’ve gotten tired of things becoming obsolete so quickly. Worse yet, I’ve become very wary of “new and improved” claims.

I understand, a certain level of “re-branding” is always going on. Product packaging is always changing to widen a product’s appeal, maybe to increase profits. Sometimes, a familiar food item is re-invented to be microwaveable or available in pre-portioned servings.

But, too often, something I use regularly changes in some fundamental way, offering no new benefit, and I have no choice.

Computer software and devices that run off apps are the biggest culprits. They seem to be designed by developers making choices according to their own preferences, not FOR the people that use the product.

A few years ago, I was upset that my online banking platform had changed. Instead of the first screen displaying the summaries of various accounts, a list appeared of my most recent transactions. This was not useful to me.

The other week, a message from Microsoft arrived in my inbox notifying me that there was going to be an upgrade to Outlook, my preferred mail server. No information was given as to what was involved in the new version. No warnings were given about when users might want to opt out of the upgrade.

The following day, after I slept through the transformation, I discovered that I had to ask a tech savvy friend to help make me things “the way they were.”

Instead of handling three different email accounts, the new version, dropped the two I use the most, wiping out access to years of correspondence. I didn’t ask for this. I wasn’t interested in losing the capabilities I used the product for so that I could have a more contemporary look.

Although, my friend was able to help me restore Outlook to the way it worked a couple days earlier, I am still unhappy with the trend. I might be a dinosaur on this, but if it’s not broke, don’t try to fix it.

Every doctor takes the Hippocratic Oath before he’s considered ready to see patients. “First, do no harm.”

It seems like software developers and product managers should be held to the same standard. For me, seeing any situation where a design that works is left alone is cause for celebration.

Understanding when to reinvent and when simply to be grateful for the thought and functionality that’s been built into something we easily take for granted is no small thing.