We walked along the Rio Grande this morning; it wasn’t flowing, it was barely holding on. The sight caught me off guard. My postcard subject for 07/17/25 turned up in Old Town, a morning glory still curled shut, its petals wrapped tight like a secret, just waiting for the lack of sun to unfold it again.
My 04/05/26 postcard is fresh growth pushing out from the top of the cactus, soft…
At the Brent Baca Memorial Disc Golf Course, the land feels stripped down to its…
My 04/03/26 postcard is a handmade cloth figure, sitting with a quiet, thoughtful presence. His…
My 04/02/26 postcard comes from a front yard on California Street, a place I pass…
My 04/01/26 postcard is a small cluster of seed pods hanging from a thin branch,…
