Walking along Duranes Ditch, we were greeted by a carpet of leaves, freshly fallen due to the recent chill. The earthy scent of decay filled the air. This distinctive aroma of the leaves stirred long-forgotten memories of younger days spent frolicking in heaping mounds of leaves gathered by my father’s diligent raking. My 11/26/23 postcard is a shot of the leaf-covered trail on the Duranes Ditch.
My 01/10/26 postcard is a skeleton sitting casually against a low wall in the Old…
My 01/09/26 postcard is a spent rose, its curls curling inward, its petals folded and…
My 01/08/26 postcard is a small group of pink plastic flamingos standing in a loose…
My 01/07/26 postcard is a spent flower hanging from a curved stem, its petals wrinkled…
My 01/06/26 postcard is a roadrunner standing rigid on the edge of a wall on…
My 01/05/26 postcard is a split seed pod from a red hesperaloe, its thick, textured…
