My 07-25-25 postcard features a Western Tiger Swallowtail feeding at a mimosa blossom along Odlum Drive. It moved with a quiet grace, one of only three butterflies we’ve seen all summer. These sightings used to be common, almost expected, but now they feel like small miracles. Each one reminds me of what’s slipping away. The decline in butterflies isn’t just numbers; it’s the fading of everyday magic.
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…
