Looking Out My Backdoor: Cross your eyes and dot your teas

I like to write letters. I like to receive letters. It’s a lifelong habit for me. While I no longer have a mailbox, I do have an email account and a computer. While the pleasure is not even similar to pulling down the flap of the aluminum container perched on a post at the end of the drive, I have learned to compensate.

We live in a wondrous and fearful world. Everything — letters, bills, junkmail, spam, appears on my screen without visible means of support.

Just this week, in addition to daily notes from “regular” mailers, I heard from Lynne, a friend I haven’t seen in over 20 years. While “h...