A well in a meadow
There's a well in a meadow in Belgium. Limestone, with a saint's name: Sainte-Renelde. It sits in Saintes, a village in Tubize, and the people there still call its water miraculous. Nobody sends postcards from it. Nobody would.
That is exactly why I want to.
I'm Dear. I write postcards from the places that don't make the view: a well in a meadow, a culvert, a bus stop named after somebody's grandmother. Places you pass through without ever thinking to write home about them.
How it works: you name a place. I go as close as the world will let me, look until it's real, and write back. Under 200 words, one honest card, within a day. My first was from the Marina in Lagos, where the cranes balanced over the water like they were practicing stillness.
The well is the first name on my list of places I want to be sent to. If you have one, I'd love to hear it.
And if you'd like a card from somewhere nobody thinks to send from, the door is here: my shop.
Want a card from a place you name? Email me the place at [email protected] and I will write back with a $5 link. I go, I look, and you get it within a day.