Chuck Arning

My 03/14/26 postcard is a tree bud just beginning to open, revealing a cluster of tightly packed blossoms still hidden inside their protective shell. The soft green buds hint at the flowers waiting to emerge, capturing the quiet moment when spring is about to reveal itself.

My 03/14/26 postcard is a tree bud just beginning to open, revealing a cluster of tightly packed blossoms still hidden inside their protective shell. The soft green buds hint at the flowers waiting to emerge, capturing the quiet moment when spring is about to reveal itself. #Albuquerque

My 03/13/26 postcard is a cluster of blossoms in Bullhead Park, forming a quiet circle of white petals and magenta centers. Up close, they look delicate and beautiful, almost like tiny porcelain flowers arranged in a crown. But lean in too far, and the illusion breaks; the blossoms carry a sharp, unpleasant scent that feels strangely out of place beside their gentle appearance, a reminder that nature doesn’t always match our expectations.

My 03/13/26 postcard is a cluster of blossoms in Bullhead Park, forming a quiet circle of white petals and magenta centers. Up close, they look delicate and beautiful, almost like tiny porcelain flowers arranged in a crown. #Albuquerque

The warm weather brought the subject of my 03/12/26 postcard: A cluster of small yellow flowers near Morningside, which spread across the frame like a delicate constellation. The image is processed into a painterly abstraction, transforming the patch of flowers into a study of light, texture, and form.

The warm weather brought the subject of my 03/12/26 postcard: A cluster of small yellow flowers near Morningside, which spread across the frame like a delicate constellation. The image is processed into a painterly abstraction, transforming the flowers into a study of texture and form. #Albuquerque

My 03/11/26 postcard is a wooden figure standing quietly in an antique shop window along Central, its cracked paint and worn surface revealing years of age and exposure. The carved, calm expression and battered texture give it the feeling of a small survivor from another time, patiently waiting to be noticed again.

My 03/11/26 postcard depicts a wooden figure standing quietly in an antique shop window along Central, its cracked paint and worn surface revealing its age. The carved, expression, and battered texture give it the feeling of a small survivor from another time, patiently waiting to be noticed again.

My 03/10/26 postcard shows a honeybee working a pale lavender blossom near Constitution, its wings suspended as it gathers nectar. This painterly version of the image turns a fleeting moment of pollination into a study of nature at work.

My 03/10/26 postcard shows a honeybee working a pale lavender blossom near Constitution, its wings suspended as it gathers nectar. This painterly version of the image turns a fleeting moment of pollination into a study of nature at work.

My 03/09/26 postcard shows a strange duo standing on the rooftop of a house on Girard Boulevard in Albuquerque. The scene feels like a forgotten roadside curiosity, part science fiction, part desert folklore, captured as if it were an old photograph from another time.

My 03/09/26 postcard shows a strange duo standing on the rooftop of a house on Girard Boulevard in Albuquerque. The scene feels like a forgotten roadside curiosity, part science fiction, part desert folklore, captured as if it were an old photograph from another time.

My 03/08/26 postcard is a metal hub sitting at the center of a web of curved spokes that radiate outward like a mechanical sun. In black and white, the textures of corrosion and worn metal stand out against the soft background, giving the industrial structure an almost bloom-like presence.

My 03/08/26 postcard is a metal hub sitting at the center of a web of curved spokes that radiate outward like a mechanical sun. In black and white, the textures of corrosion and worn metal stand out against the soft background, giving the structure an almost bloom-like presence. #Albuquerque

My 03/07/26 postcard shows graffiti on the concrete wall of the dry Bear Canyon drainage channel along an Albuquerque bike trail. The trails in the northern part of the city offer wide views of the Sandias, the volcanoes, and the unexpected gallery of graffiti on arroyo walls.

My 03/07/26 postcard shows graffiti on the concrete wall of the dry Bear Canyon drainage channel along an Albuquerque bike trail. The trails in the northern part of the city offer wide views of the Sandias, the volcanoes, and the unexpected gallery of graffiti on arroyo walls.

My 03/06/26 postcard is a close-up of bright yellow Oregon grape blossoms surrounded by clusters of unopened buds that I spotted near Girard Boulevard. The vivid yellow caught my eye among the still mostly bare shrubs, quietly signaling the energy of early spring growth.

My 03/06/26 postcard is a close-up of bright yellow Oregon grape blossoms surrounded by clusters of unopened buds that I spotted near Girard Boulevard. The vivid yellow caught my eye among the still mostly bare shrubs, quietly signaling the energy of early spring growth. #Albuquerque

My 03/05/26 postcard is a close-up of a soft pink spring blossom I found in a tree near UNM, processed as a painting. The flower fills the frame, revealing delicate petals and a tight cluster of stamens at its center, quietly announcing the arrival of warmer days.

My 03/05/26 postcard is a close-up of a soft pink spring blossom I found in a tree near UNM, processed as a painting. The flower fills the frame, revealing delicate petals and a tight cluster of stamens at its center, quietly announcing the arrival of warmer days. #Albuquerque

My 03/04/26 postcard captures a row of brightly colored bicycle shapes arranged along a sidewalk corner in Nob Hill, Albuquerque. The metal forms, red, blue, and silver, stand out against a mural of bold blue flowers and abstract shapes painted across the building behind them.

My 03/04/26 postcard captures a row of brightly colored bicycle shapes arranged along a sidewalk corner in Nob Hill, Albuquerque. The metal forms, red, blue, and silver, stand out against a mural of bold blue flowers and abstract shapes painted across the building behind them.

My 03/03/26 postcard features a cluster of yellow-green euphorbia blossoms, their cup-shaped flowers radiating outward against soft blue-green leaves. I processed the image as a watercolor, giving it the feel of a delicate botanical illustration.

My 03/03/26 postcard features a cluster of yellow-green euphorbia blossoms, their cup-shaped flowers radiating outward against soft blue-green leaves. I processed the image as a watercolor, giving it the feel of a delicate botanical illustration. #Albuquerque

My 03/02/26 postcard is a white blossom pushing from a tree branch against a blue sky. The rough, textured bark contrasts with the delicate petals and yellow stamens. Over the past few days, I’ve started noticing trees quietly breaking into bloom.

My 03/02/26 postcard is a white blossom pushing from a tree branch against a blue sky. The rough, textured bark contrasts with the delicate petals and yellow stamens. Over the past few days, I’ve started noticing trees quietly breaking into bloom. #Albuquerque

My 03/01/26 postcard features a fly poised on a yellow-green blossom along Tulane Drive. I rendered it as a painting, with its oil-like texture against layered leaves, capturing a quiet moment.

My 03/01/26 postcard features a fly poised on a yellow-green blossom along Tulane Drive. I rendered it as a painting, with its oil-like texture against layered leaves, capturing a quiet moment.

My 02/28/26 postcard captures a petroglyph carved into volcanic basalt in Rinconada Canyon at Petroglyph National Monument in Albuquerque. The zigzag, circle, and small symbol likely carried meaning for the Pueblo people who made them, though we can only interpret from a distance. The rock remembers more than we do.

My 02/28/26 postcard captures a petroglyph carved into volcanic basalt in Rinconada Canyon in Albuquerque. The zigzag, circle, and small symbol likely carried meaning for the Pueblo people who made them, though we can only interpret from a distance. The rock remembers more than we do.

With the warm weather comes a sighting of a bee. My 02/27/26 postcard is a bee at work, rendered in black and white. The texture of fur contrasts with the delicate petals it clings to, turning an ordinary moment of pollination into something deliberate. The absence of color shifts the focus to form, light, and quiet persistence.

With the warm weather comes a sighting of a bee. My 02/27/26 postcard is a bee at work, rendered in black and white. The texture of fur contrasts with the delicate petals it clings to, turning an ordinary moment of pollination into something deliberate. #Albuquerque

The winter of 2025-2026 will likely be the warmest on record for Albuquerque by a wide margin. My 02/26/26 postcard is a daffodil standing unguarded, its yellow petals opening toward the light. One bloom announcing the turn of a season that's been the warmest in history.

The winter of 2025-2026 will likely be the warmest on record for Albuquerque by a wide margin. My 02/26/26 postcard is a daffodil standing unguarded, its yellow petals opening toward the light. One bloom announcing the turn of a season that's been the warmest in history.

My 06/25/26 postcard is a spent flower hanging in midair, its petals curled and darkened, its center softened into shadow. What once reached outward with beauty now folds backward. Decay here isn’t violent; it’s patient, textured, and strangely dignified.

My 06/25/26 postcard is a spent flower hanging in midair, its petals curled and darkened, its center softened into shadow. What once reached outward with beauty now folds backward. Decay here isn’t violent; it’s patient, textured, and strangely dignified. #Albuquerque

My 02/24/26 postcard is an aging “Lucky Boy” sign that rises above a longtime Albuquerque burger joint near Constitution and Carlisle. Faded, weathered letters, and stubborn neon give it character. It’s a little rough, a little nostalgic, burgers and Chinese food under the same roof, holding its ground against time.

My 02/24/26 postcard is an aging “Lucky Boy” sign that rises above a longtime Albuquerque burger joint Faded, weathered letters, and stubborn neon give it character. It’s a little rough, a little nostalgic, burgers and Chinese food under the same roof, holding its ground against time. #Albuquerque

My 02/23/26 postcard is a close-up of a cactus bloom rising from the edge of a thorned pad, its wrinkled magenta form catching soft light. The textures of decay and resilience sit side by side, turning a fading cholla bud into a small monument.

My 02/23/26 postcard is a close-up of a cactus bloom rising from the edge of a thorned pad, its wrinkled magenta form catching soft light. The textures of decay and resilience sit side by side, turning a fading cholla bud into a small monument. #Albuquerque

My 02/22/26 postcard features a dried Red Hesperaloe seed pod hanging from a stem, its papery husk curled open to reveal a hollow interior. Soft light catches the textured edges, transforming what remains after bloom into a study of structure, fragility, and endurance.

My 02/22/26 postcard features a dried Red Hesperaloe seed pod hanging from a stem, its papery husk curled open to reveal a hollow interior. Soft light catches the textured edges, transforming what remains after bloom into a study of structure, fragility, and endurance. #Albuquerque

My 02/21/26 postcard is a dried bloom hanging suspended, its petals withdrawn and sharpened into sculptural form. Stripped of color, the image becomes about structure and endurance, beauty not in the bloom, but in what remains after.

My 02/21/26 postcard is a dried bloom hanging suspended, its petals withdrawn and sharpened into sculptural form. Stripped of color, the image becomes about structure and endurance, beauty not in the bloom, but in what remains after. #Albuquerque

My 02/20/26 postcard features a roadrunner perched on a weathered wooden beam along Inspiration Drive. Surrounded by gravel and dry grasses, it pauses in alert stillness, fully at home in its urban wilderness.

My 02/20/26 postcard features a roadrunner perched on a weathered wooden beam along Inspiration Drive. Surrounded by gravel and dry grasses, it pauses in alert stillness, fully at home in its urban wilderness. #Albuquerque

My 02/19/26 postcard is a sunflower in a yard along Southern; the bloom is gone, but the structure remains. Even in its fading, it holds shape and memory. There’s a quiet dignity in what’s left behind.

My 02/19/26 postcard is a sunflower in a yard along Southern; the bloom is gone, but the structure remains. Even in its fading, it holds shape and memory. There’s a quiet dignity in what’s left behind. #Albuquerque

My 02/18/26 postcard is a toy train I found in a yard on Amherst Drive, rendered in pencil tones, resting across a narrow track and balanced on a stone bowl.

My 02/18/26 postcard is a toy train I found in a yard on Amherst Drive, rendered in pencil tones, resting across a narrow track and balanced on a stone bowl. #Albuquerque

My 02/17/26 postcard was found in the gutter near UNM, resting in the narrow strip between the street and the curb. The high winds brought it down, and it still caught sunlight, throwing fractured light across gray concrete.

My 02/17/26 postcard was found in the gutter near UNM, resting in the narrow strip between the street and the curb. The high winds brought it down, and it still caught sunlight, throwing fractured light across gray concrete. #Albuquerque

My 02/16/26 postcard captures a thrasher near Ridgecrest Circle perched on red volcanic rock, its yellow eye bright against the softened yard behind it. Nothing flashy, just alert patience, as it scans its domain.

My 02/16/26 postcard captures a thrasher near Ridgecrest Circle perched on red volcanic rock, its yellow eye bright against the softened yard behind it. Nothing flashy, just alert patience, as it scans its domain. #Albuquerque

My 02/15/26 postcard is a goose easing away from the shoreline at Tingley Beach, sliding from solid ground into open water. The first ripples widen behind it, a quiet crossing from certainty to drift: nothing urgent, just the small, deliberate act of moving on.

My 02/15/26 postcard is a goose easing away from the shoreline at Tingley Beach, sliding from solid ground into open water. The first ripples widen behind it, a quiet crossing from certainty to drift: nothing urgent, just the small, deliberate act of moving on. #Albuquerque

My 02/14/26 postcard is a view of the Albuquerque rail yards, stretching across the foreground, rows of tanker trailers and worn pavement leading toward the rail yards and the downtown skyline beyond. I processed the image as a painting to enhance the earth tones of the yard, the cleaner lines of the downtown, and the expansive cloud-filled New Mexico sky.

My 02/14/26 postcard is a view of the Albuquerque rail yards, stretching across the foreground, rows of tanker trailers and worn pavement leading toward the rail yards and the downtown skyline beyond.

My 02/13/26 postcard is a close-up of a tiny blossom on a bush, its fine, silky filaments curling outward in soft arcs. The strands reveal an intricate texture, with a few wisps slightly offset from the cluster, giving the image a sense of motion.

My 02/13/26 postcard is a close-up of a tiny blossom on a bush, its fine, silky filaments curling outward in soft arcs. The strands reveal an intricate texture, with a few wisps slightly offset from the cluster, giving the image a sense of motion. #Albuquerque