There is something about the poppy. They are at the same time so flimsy and yet robust. Their fine, papery petals are vulnerable to the slightest breeze but have a vibrancy and depth of colour that is hard to match. They thrive through disruption, lying dormant for many years until disturbed and then they appear in numbers that are hard to comprehend. The tougher the conditions....dry, stone-laden soils.... the better they seem to like it. They prosper in adversity. And amidst their profusion, each one remains unique., something I have tried to capture in the close-up portraits of wild poppies that appeared, spontaneously, in the wildest corner of my garden last summer.
What flower could be a better-deserving symbol of respect and hope..
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