Fingers of Stone, Pool of Clouds
Twenty-five years ago, my parents and a few of their friends loaded themselves and us kids into several station wagons and headed north to the White Mountains. The plan was to go hiking for a week. It was a lot of hiking. A lot of beautiful country – deep blue skies, vistas, rocks and streams and trees. A lot of terrible freeze-dried food (and the beginning of my love for hot citrus drinks).
Near the end of the trip, we climbed the biggest mountain – Mount Washington (“Home of the World’s Worst Weather”). On the way up, we passed the lake that inspired “Fingers of Stone, Pool of Clouds” and struggled up a rock field where my youngest sister nearly blew away. Literally – someone else had to take her pack while other people held onto her. On the way down, we stopped at the Madison Spring Hut.
At the top, however, we stopped at the Mount Washington Observatory. After most of a week where we hadn’t seen more than a handful of people at a time or spent time inside four walls, it was amazing. They had a cafeteria! And a gift shop!
So I bought some postcards. Probably ten or a dozen of them. I have no idea who I thought I might’ve send them to.
Everybody Loves A Postcard
On another trip, out to Arizona, I bought more postcards. On another trip, out to the Caribbean, I bought more postcards. And on another trip, and another trip – I bought more postcards.
I kept close friends’ mailing addresses in my wallet, next to to the postcard stamps, so I could mail them postcards at any time, even if I forgot to do so most of the time. But every time I bought postcards to send from those trips, I bought extras. I went to London, and asked my friends “who wants a postcard?” I sent over forty postcards across the pond … and came home with extras.
I’ve got close to 150 postcards.
In truth, the extra postcards I buy are the ones I wish someone would send to me, because I love getting postcards in the mail.
The Postcard Project
I’ve got close to 150 postcards in my desk. Twenty-five years of travel, favorite art, memories, and museums.
A postcard lives for travel – to fly through the mail and end up on a fridge far away.
It’s time to set these postcards loose in the world.
The Postcard Project is coming soon.