The sun is out, and
Valentine’s Day nears, and I’m thinking of letters waiting in all kinds of
mailboxes around the world. And
other missives—postcards, royalty checks, pictures of new babies, hesitant
declarations of love. Of longing
and absence and joy, at any age.
The images that
come to mind are
- mailboxes shouldered along a country road in Nambe or Tesuque
- the pig-pink mailbox in the heart of Kona coffee country
- these turquoise mailboxes on Canyon Road outside an artist’s studio (and just a block or two away from the low-ceilinged restaurant and bar with the smouldering flamenco guitar)
- the mailboxes at the end of Thendara Lane, under the pines and a thicket of oleander, in these hills where everyone has come from somewhere else and writes to and about home in those distant places
image: Christie B. Cochrell, Canyon Road Mailboxes
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