The Fabulous Mailboxes of Bainbridge Island Book

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Meet Me at the Mailbox | The book, the mailboxes, the mission!

Possibilities for spreading creativity, connection and kindness emerge via a deceptively ordinary portal, the USPS mailbox. So utterly constant, so abundantly reliable as to have gone invisible. Failing to see that mailboxes are in fact folkloristic pipelines telescoping past, present and future, failing to see they provide rich subtext to everyday life, is to sidestep magic.

More practically, our brave residential mailboxes stand unflinching, inches away from speeding vehicles in a world that hurries past them. They stand unflappable in their shouldering of all manner of harsh weather and endure the indignities thrust upon them by the carousing of carless teenagers and the harried who do not notice them in their rearview mirror, sideview mirror or even windshield.

The abuses are endless, as is the resiliency and enduring necessity of the mailbox. Recycled, replaced, repaired and best-case scenario, reimagined.

I tease the reimagined out from amongst the cedars, cypress, recycling bins and Douglas fir of our lush Bainbridge Island landscape.

Why, you ask?

Well, who among us would not take pause to admire the testimonial totems hailing roadside. I’ve long-standing friendships with most of them.

Take, for example that Big Boy box. Do not read much into the fact that I’ve been single for five years but Bob’s earnest optimism and eager willingness to serve appeals to a strange hunger lay dormant. Or the Wise Owl mailbox on Battle Point Road whose eyes unfailingly meet mine as I round the bend. Do not read much into the fact I’ve otherwise no legitimate business in the Battle Point neighborhood.

Take, for example the respite offered by the Lighthouse Mailbox on Crystal Springs Road. A beacon of friendship offered up by a Fresnel lens and a not quite scandalous love fest with its owners who by way of gratitude for taking notice, have unabashedly offered me love and support, forever. Yes, they employed the word, forever. It’s like that with mailbox people.

I could go on in this manner but I’ll stop here. Some say, I’ve gone postal but in your most parched moments, when you lust to wander, when happiness abandons, meet me at the mailbox and I’ll tell you a story.

For a good time, get social with Fabulous Mailboxes!