I forgot to post that my first two postcards arrived in the past week:
This morning I was stopped at the bridge-under-construction just long enough to take this grab shot of the loosestrife along the road.
And today’s lunch:
I’m enjoying my nightly jaunts to the mailbox with the outgoing postcard, often around midnight. Tonight the air outside was so much cooler than it is inside the house and the dew was already heavy on the grass. The moon is full tomorrow and was very bright.
Seems very much part of the ritual: put the words on the postcard, then the address, then the stamp, then go downstairs and scan front and back and name the files by number of the day and the surname of the recipient. Then, out to the mailbox and put the card in the box and the flag up. Go to sleep.
Love the loosestrife. Memories of the lake. How can one go wrong with the postcard ritual.
The lunch looked real good.