A Letter in the Post

Today, I opened my mailbox to discover that, amongst the bills and flyers and other junk, a letter had been delivered for me. A real letter: stamped, addressed by hand and printed on thick, cream-coloured stationery. A letter containing greetings and news from someone I have not heard from in quite a while - my old flatmate, from when I lived in England, a decade ago.

In this age of electronic mail and instant messaging, receiving a letter in the post (without it even being a holiday) is such an unusual occurrence that I thought it bloggable. Strange, isn't it? And a little sad, also. I used to be a great letter-writer. While I still make it a priority to keep in touch with my friends and share news, I now do it almost exclusively in an electronic format. Only at Christmastime do I revert to paper again, and even then, my letters are always laser-printed - all that handwriting would kill me.

Did people have more time in the past for keeping in touch with friends through letters? Or were priorities simply different? All I know for sure is that the impermanent character of electronic communication will be the bane of future historians. It's partly why I'm so reluctant to chuck out letters I receive now, no matter how inconsequential they may seem.