After eight years of building a life in the United States, my husband, our dog, and I could no longer stay. We've traded the Big Apple for a small apple orchard, back in my birth country, the Netherlands. This summer we're in a cottage on orchard grounds in the Dutch countryside, a temporary landing before we know where we'll root next. These are my first sketches since the move, observational studies of the apple trees right outside our door.

My body has landed. My mind is still arriving, sorting through what we left behind and what's waiting for us here, in a place both familiar and strange. I keep returning to the apple: its weight in history, in myth, in the lives of women who've carried it. These postcards move from light to dark, the way the last months have - trying to adjust to everything at once, in the world and in myself.

They are souvenirs of a landing, and of remigration, to one of the many places I call home.