My 11/03/25 postcard is a single leaf I found along Constitution Avenue, spotted and worn, bearing the marks of cold nights, part decay, part endurance. The life that surrounded it, now fading into the background. It’s the story of change written on a surface that’s still hanging on, past its season.
My 12/18/25 postcard comes from Bullhead Park, where a dry leaf hangs improbably in a…
While the days remain warm, the nights are falling below freezing. My 12/17/25 postcard is…
My 12/16/25 postcard is a sunflower long past its peak, drooping under its own weight,…
My 12/15/25 postcard is a roadrunner pausing inside a clay pot, feathers puffed to catch…
My 12/13/25 postcard is a single red ornament hanging from a bare winter branch along…
