Dear You

Cave dwelling proving harder than I’d initially presumed...

May 22nd, 1904

Dear you,

Cave dwelling proving harder than I’d initially presumed. Tranquility of the place makes it all worthwhile. Light enters the mouth of the cave early and I am woken by bird song.

Are you receiving these postcards?

All my love too great to be calculated from somewhere in the United Kingdom,
X

(Postcard collage title: When in doubt it often helps to start at the beginning (II).)

I never knew what was meant about the blue tint of Monte Carlo...

May 20th, 1904

Dear you,

I never knew what was meant about the blue tint of Monte Carlo; I knew only of the Baroque style Casino.

Finding my feet, ever so slowly, yet keen to press on.

Cyan poker chips and fondness immeasurable,
X

(Postcard collage title: When in doubt it often helps to start at the beginning (I).)

Fir cones and Racoon tracks...

May 10th, 1904

Dear you,

The great big trees of California live up to their promise and name. An ancient open air cathedral, all quiet here in this forest of mostly pines and firs.

I have discovered, though not first hand, that bad luck knocks on the door of those who cut down big trees, or shoot in the direction of an owl.

The space allocated for a message seems to grow smaller and smaller with each postcard. Hope to sight the once thought extinct Ivory Billed Woodpecker. If I sit very still I think I will be in with a sporting chance.

Fir cones and Racoon tracks,
X

(Postcard collage title: At first all was not clear.)

Broken roof tiles and kisses...

May 1st, 1904

Dear you,

Here we are in Stockholm, Sweden marvelling at it all. Perched atop the town hall, overlooking the Western Bridge, I watched and waited for you. (They really ought to repair their roofing, a few roof tiles fell into the water as I sat there and the hole they left was impressive.)

You never came, but in your place, a moose, an elk on a ramshackle bicycle, a wolverine and a pair of lynx from Gästrikland. They spoke to me of the weather, their plans, their likes and their loves. I welcomed their company until they pulled from their wallets several photos of their young.

Shall look for you in the Fisherman’s Bar.

Broken roof tiles and kisses,
X

(Postcard collage title: A fine balancing act (II).)