I have a sweet spot for postcards. How can I feel such big love for such tiny rectangles? Good question. This is a first in a series of posts about these travel-writing vehicles par excellence.
For one thing, postcards are finite. You have to prioritize your words. There’s none of that grab-another-piece-of-paper or flip-it-over-and-write-on-the-back safety net. With postcards, you go small or go home. It’s like working a crossword puzzle in pen. (The postcard above is from Stamper’s Quest. The following two postcards are from metropostcard.com)
In my days of long-distance courtship, postcards were a choice way to let a special someone know they’re on my mind. I like to think of postcards as seeds of comedy, too. Who knows what awkwardness they may sow between your beloved and the mail carrier or confused neighbor. (I was a pretty good long-distance girlfriend. Can you tell?)
I’ve never been to Woonsocket, but I’m charmed by this postcard (Rhode Island Chamber of Commerce, are you reading? Maybe a press trip? I’d be a fine ambassador for New England. Think about it.) Woonsocket would make a great band name. And check out that couple’s jaunty headgear, circa early 20th century!
I have a stack of postcards I’ve collected on my travels. Recently I’ve discovered that the interwebs are an even bigger treasure trove. A Google Image search is going to keep me busy for a long time, thanks to my nonstop nosiness.
Do you send postcards when you travel? What have been the most exotic postcards you’ve received?
