Chuck Arning

My 11/09/25 postcard features a purple zinnia, its petals slightly worn at the edges but still rich with color. The center bursts with tiny yellow curls, like a crown growing upward from the base. A vivid reminder that beauty endures, even as the season begins to slip away.

My 11/09/25 postcard features a purple zinnia, its petals slightly worn at the edges but still rich with color. The center bursts with tiny yellow curls, like a crown growing upward from the base. A vivid reminder that beauty endures, even as the season begins to slip away. #Albuquerque

My 11/08/25 postcard is from behind the wheel at a car wash on Gibson. The soap and water streak across the windshield in a riot of color, reds, blues, and purples glowing like neon through the wash. The car’s gauges sit shadowed while Willie and Merle play on the stereo, a moment suspended between motion and stillness, all strangely entertaining.

My 11/08/25 postcard is from behind the wheel at a car wash on Gibson. The soap and water streak across the windshield in a riot of color, reds, blues, and purples glowing like neon through the wash. A moment suspended between motion and stillness, all strangely entertaining. #Albuquerque

My 11/07/25 postcard features a heart-shaped leaf hanging in the soft fall light, its surface mottled with dark spots and edges curling toward black from the cold nights. As decay begins to claim its border, the leaf feels both fragile and stubborn, a quiet record of a season passing, marked but still holding on.

My 11/07/25 postcard features a heart-shaped leaf hanging in the soft fall light, its surface mottled with dark spots and edges curling toward black from the cold nights. As decay begins to claim its border, the leaf feels both fragile and stubborn, a quiet record of a season passing #Albuquerque.

My 11/06/25 postcard is a roadrunner perched on a wall along Summer Avenue, sitting perfectly still, waiting for me to pass. Its eye catches the light as it notices me standing nearby. In black and white, the scene feels timeless, as it quietly watches, waiting for me to pass.

My 11/06/25 postcard is a roadrunner perched on a wall along Summer Avenue, sitting perfectly still, waiting for me to pass. Its eye catches the light as it notices me standing nearby. In black and white, the scene feels timeless, as it quietly watches, waiting for me to pass. #Albuquerque

My 11/05/ postcard features a honeybee buried in the bright yellow heart of a purple cosmos, its body dusted with pollen. The flower holds still while the bee does its work, a brief exchange of need and nourishment captured in a single moment.

My 11/05/ postcard features a honeybee buried in the bright yellow heart of a purple cosmos, its body dusted with pollen. The flower holds still while the bee does its work, a brief exchange of need and nourishment captured in a single moment. #Albuquerque

My 11/04/25 postcard features a dog statue sitting just inside the trophy shop window, located just off Central. It is poised like he’s waiting for someone who never quite arrives. Around him stand trophies and ribbons, while he remains the one prize that isn’t for sale, I’ve asked. I’m the passerby who keeps wishing to take him home. Each time I walk by, it sparks the memory of the song, "(How Much Is) That Doggie in the Window?"

My 11/04/25 postcard features a dog statue sitting just inside the trophy shop window, located just off Central. He remains the one prize that isn’t for sale, I’ve asked. Each time I walk by, it sparks the memory of the song, "(How Much Is) That Doggie in the Window?" #Albuquerque

My 11/03/25 postcard is a single leaf I found along Constitution Avenue, spotted and worn, bearing the marks of cold nights, part decay, part endurance. The life that surrounded it, now fading into the background. It’s the story of change written on a surface that’s still hanging on, past its season.

My 11/03/25 postcard is a single leaf I found along Constitution Avenue, spotted and worn, bearing the marks of cold nights, part decay, part endurance. The life that surrounded it, now fading into the background. It’s the story of change written on a surface that’s still hanging on, past its season

My 11/02/25 postcard is a small bird seeking seeds on the remnants of a dried sunflower. It’s the kind of scene that’s hard to catch because they are very shy and always seem to know if you are looking at them and fly away.

My 11/02/25 postcard is a small bird seeking seeds on the remnants of a dried sunflower. It’s the kind of scene that’s hard to catch because they are very shy and always seem to know if you are looking at them and fly away. #Albuquerque

My 11/01/25 postcard features a dried seed pod hanging suspended, its curved husks peeling open like fingers letting go. Black and White isolates the subject, giving it a quiet, sculptural presence, as if time itself paused to admire the form left behind.

My 11/01/25 postcard features a dried seed pod hanging suspended, its curved husks peeling open like fingers letting go. Black and White isolates the subject, giving it a quiet, sculptural presence, as if time itself paused to admire the form left behind. #Albuquerque

My 10/31/25 postcard is a Halloween display in Siesta Hills that stopped me in my tracks a few days ago, and I couldn’t resist returning to capture it today. The scene feels like a moment frozen from a nightmare, part prank, part performance, perfect for Halloween. It’s unsettling, playful, and cinematic all at once, turning an ordinary suburban driveway into something straight out of a horror film.

My 10/31/25 postcard is a Halloween display in Siesta Hills that stopped me in my tracks a few days ago, perfect for Halloween. It’s unsettling, playful, and cinematic all at once, turning an ordinary suburban driveway into something straight out of a horror film. #Albuqueruqe

My 10/30/25 postcard captures a sunflower at the end of its life, its petals curled and crisp, its once-bright face heavy with seeds and bowed toward the earth. The muted browns and grays convey a sense of completion rather than decay. It’s a portrait of endurance, sunlight stored, purpose fulfilled.

My 10/30/25 postcard captures a sunflower at the end of its life, its petals curled, its once-bright face heavy with seeds and bowed toward the earth. The browns and grays convey a sense of completion rather than decay. It’s a portrait of endurance, sunlight stored, purpose fulfilled. #Albuquerque

My 10/29/25 postcard captures Urban Glow, a shop on Route 66, where an aging brick wall bears the red letters HOT beside the word NEON, a relic of a bygone roadside America. The mural, blending vintage signage with patriotic stripes and scattered blue stars, feels both nostalgic and alive.

My 10/29/25 postcard captures Urban Glow, a shop on Route 66, where a brick wall bears the red letters HOT beside the word NEON, a relic of a bygone roadside America. The mural, blending vintage signage with patriotic stripes and scattered blue stars, feels both nostalgic and alive. #Albuquerque

My 10/28/25 postcard is a Curve-billed Thrasher perched on a sun-warmed railing along Ridgecrest, its curved beak catching the morning light and its amber eye sharply alert. The image captures the thrasher as it scans the yard for insects.

My 10/28/25 postcard is a Curve-billed Thrasher perched on a sun-warmed railing along Ridgecrest, its curved beak catching the morning light and its amber eye sharply alert. The image captures the thrasher as it scans the yard for insects.

My 10/27/25 postcard features a common fly I spotted on the UNM campus, ordinary at first glance, but transformed through the lens into something extraordinary. The image feels both scientific and poetic, capturing a quiet moment of beauty in something most people never stop to notice.

My 10/27/25 postcard features a common fly I spotted on the UNM campus, ordinary at first glance, but transformed through the lens into something extraordinary. The image feels both scientific and poetic, capturing a quiet moment of beauty in something most people never stop to notice. #Albuquerque

My 10/26/25 postcard is a rose in its final act, its last two petals faded and curling, colors softening. What remains is a quiet testament to the passage of time. The bloom’s decay reveals its structure, turning loss into form. It’s not about what’s gone, but what endures in the leaving.

My 10/26/25 postcard is a rose, its last two petals faded and curling, colors softening. What remains is a quiet testament to the passage of time. The bloom’s decay reveals its structure, turning loss into form. It’s not about what’s gone, but what endures in the leaving. #Albuquerque

My 10/25/25 postcard is a bright stretch of shelves at John Brooks loaded with every kind of salty indulgence. Lay’s, Ruffles, Kettle Cooked, and Cape Cod are all jostling for attention beside jars of dip. This aisle is the hunting ground for a blind chip tasting we are having tomorrow, where simple potato chips become the stuff of contemplation and family debate.

My 10/25/25 postcard is a bright stretch of shelves at John Brooks loaded with every kind of salty indulgence. This aisle is the hunting ground for a blind chip tasting we are having tomorrow, where simple potato chips become the stuff of contemplation and family debate. #Albuquerque

My 10/24/25 postcard captures a playful autumn scene from a yard on Solano Drive, a reimagined Cinderella’s carriage: a pumpkin turned into a button-framed coach, complete with a toy passenger, Jimi Hendrix at the reins, and two dark mice pulling the load. With coffee lids for wheels and a bed of straw beneath, bathed in soft morning light, the scene blends fairytale whimsy with homemade creativity, a touch of Halloween humor wrapped in childlike wonder.

My 10/24/25 postcard captures a playful autumn scene from a yard on Solano Drive, a reimagined Cinderella’s carriage: a pumpkin turned into a button-framed coach, complete with a toy passenger, Jimi Hendrix at the reins, and two dark mice pulling the load. #Albuquerque

My 10/23/25 postcard features a dried poppy seed pod, its petals long gone, suspended in soft light. The once-vivid bloom has become a delicate structure of pale gold and brown, its radiating pattern echoing both decay and design. There’s a beauty in its symmetry, the memory of a flower transformed into design.

My 10/23/25 postcard features a dried poppy pod, its petals long gone, suspended in soft light. The once-vivid bloom has become a structure of pale gold and brown, its radiating pattern echoing both decay and design. There’s a beauty in its symmetry, the memory of a flower transformed into design.

My 10/22/25 postcard features a scarecrow-like figure standing beneath a tree along Mackland Avenue, its jack-o’-lantern face set into a fierce grin. Draped in tattered cloth and hooded in green, it seems half guardian, half ghost, a spirit of the season caught between mischief and menace.

My 10/22/25 postcard features a scarecrow-like figure standing beneath a tree along Mackland Avenue, its jack-o’-lantern face set into a fierce grin. Draped in tattered cloth, it seems half guardian, half ghost, a spirit of the season caught between mischief and menace. #Albuquerque

My 10/21/25 postcard features a yellow rose rendered in black and white, its petals folding outward in gentle, timeworn layers. The absence of color makes it feel both intimate and timeless, like a memory caught between tenderness and decay.

My 10/21/25 postcard features a yellow rose rendered in black and white, its petals folding outward in gentle, timeworn layers. The absence of color makes it feel both intimate and timeless, like a memory caught between tenderness and decay. #Albuquerque

My 10/20/25 postcard features a single yellow sunflower along Marble Avenue, lit from behind; it leans toward the fading warmth of an autumn sun. Its petals glow like small flames against a soft, muted background, capturing the last bright defiance of summer before the season turns.

My 10/20/25 postcard features a single yellow sunflower along Marble Avenue, lit from behind; it leans toward the fading warmth of an autumn sun. Its petals glow like small flames against a soft, muted background, capturing the last bright defiance of summer before the season turns.

My 10/19/25 postcard features a small bird perched gracefully atop a slender branch at Tingley Beach, its gray feathers edged with soft silver against a blue sky. It stands alert but unhurried, perfectly balanced between stillness and flight, a brief moment of calm.

My 10/19/25 postcard features a small bird perched gracefully atop a slender branch at Tingley Beach, its gray feathers edged with soft silver against a blue sky. It stands alert but unhurried, perfectly balanced between stillness and flight, a brief moment of calm. #Albuquerque

We started the day by walking over to Central and voting, then we caught a bus to the “No Kings” rally downtown. We found over 40,000 Americans who love their country marching in the streets to express their concern. My 10-18-25 postcard is the Statue of Liberty, rendered in color, tears streaking her face beneath the words “No Kings.” The contrast between the black-and-white crowd and the centerpiece underscores the clash between power and principle, between silence and the cry for freedom. It’s a portrait of democracy finding its voice, imperfect, defiant, and alive.

My 10-18-25 postcard is the Statue of Liberty, rendered in color, tears streaking her face beneath the words “No Kings.” The contrast between the black-and-white crowd and the centerpiece underscores the clash between power and principle, between silence and the cry for freedom. #Albuquerque

My 10/17/25 postcard is a honeybee I found along Carlisle Blvd, glowing in the sunlight, its wings like glass and its body shimmering with blues and golds as it gathers pollen from a yellow bloom. It’s a moment of pure focus in its endless rhythm of work.

My 10/17/25 postcard is a honeybee I found along Carlisle Blvd, glowing in the sunlight, its wings like glass and its body shimmering with blues and golds as it gathers pollen from a yellow bloom. It’s a moment of pure focus in its endless rhythm of work. #Albuquerque

My 10/16/25 postcard, once a bright sunflower, now hangs in quiet surrender, its golden petals curled and faded, clinging to the dark heart of the bloom, beauty persisting even as life recedes.

My 10/16/25 postcard, once a bright sunflower, now hangs in quiet surrender, its golden petals curled and faded, clinging to the dark heart of the bloom, beauty persisting even as life recedes. #Albuquerque

My 10/15/25 postcard features a metallic green fly resting atop a dried, thistle-like bloom, its wings translucent, feeding on what’s left of summer.

My 10/15/25 postcard features a metallic green fly resting atop a dried, thistle-like bloom, its wings translucent, feeding on what’s left of summer. #Albuquerque

The back panel of my computer, once humming with light and purpose, now sits quietly, a maze of ports and potential gone still. I had meant to use a picture of a wet morning glory for my postcard, something living and bright. Still, when the computer quit and took that image with it, this became the story instead: the silent aftermath of failure, the machine that held my day’s beauty turned into the subject itself for my 10/14/25 postcard.

I had meant to use a picture of a wet morning glory for my postcard. Still, when the computer quit and took that image with it, this became the story instead: the silent aftermath of failure, the machine that held my day’s beauty turned into the subject itself for my 10/14/25 postcard. #Albuquerque

My 10/13/25 postcard comes from an overcast day in Bullhead Park, a single pine branch held its ground, the cone rough and opening. The light was soft; it felt less like a burst of life and more like a breath held between seasons, patient, enduring, quietly alive beneath the gray.

My 10/13/25 postcard comes from an overcast day in Bullhead Park, a single pine branch held its ground, the cone rough and opening. The light was soft; it felt less like a burst of life and more like a breath held between seasons, patient, enduring, quietly alive beneath the gray. #Albuquerque

My 10/12/25 postcard is a bright yellow bloom standing alone in a Nob Hill light yard, its petals catching the dim light of the overcast morning. The flower, holding its ground against the coming cool of fall.

My 10/12/25 postcard is a bright yellow bloom standing alone in a Nob Hill light yard, its petals catching the dim light of the overcast morning. The flower, holding its ground against the coming cool of fall.

It rained on us during our walk, so I didn’t get many pictures. However, it did present an interesting image for my 10/11/25 postcard: a honeybee clinging to the underside of a lavender blossom, wings drawn close as the rain fell. The tiny worker seeking refuge beneath the bloom, a fragile stillness amid the storm. Turning this small act of survival into a moment of quiet grace.

It rained on us during our walk, so I didn’t get many pictures. However, it did present an interesting image for my 10/11/25 postcard: a honeybee clinging to the underside of a lavender blossom, wings drawn close as the rain fell. #Albuquerque