I went out at dusk and sketched our mailbox, changing the numbers b/c of this day and age we live in. A firefly happened past and I put him in too, with a little darkness around him.
I used to be a faithful letter writer, and then we got email. I still write a "real" letter once in a while, but not too often. When I think about mail and letters I think of my grandmother Lillian, who was a country gal but educated and she would write the best letters that made me feel she was right there talking to me. When she got into her eighties I started saving them (and regretting all the old ones I had thrown away over the years) and now that she is gone they are still alive with her wit and love and down-home observations of life. I'm so glad God gave her to us for so long. She lived to be 101.