Vanishing scene of Americana

By Joe Duty | Published Wednesday, November 9, 2011

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Messenger photo by Joe Duty

“We lay aside letters never to read them again, and at last we destroy them out of discretion, and so disappears the most beautiful, the most immediate breath of life, irrecoverable for ourselves and for others.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

A mailbox door hangs open like a hungry mouth. A rusted red top bleeds over a void. Whenever you’re in Texas, you always know where you are. The array is no different. Evident pride manifesting in ubiquitous symbology.

Our roaming photographer captured this image in rural east Texas.

Blue and white handprints of children adorn the side like eager hands awaiting correspondence. But the letters seldom come these days. Our personal messages are instead confined to binary thoughts punched at random. Digital secrets sent with little thought. Grammar overboard.

The image appears like something from a Norman Rockwell painting. A vanishing scene of Americana swept away like dust behind the spinning black rubber wheels of migrants.

Seems like the more we say, the less we know.

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