These fragile papery poppies were a delicate contrast to the tough iron railing through which they wound themselves. Great juxtaposition of textures.
Apparently Poppy seed will lie dormant for many years until the soil is recently raked over, when they spring to life and grow randomly and spread rapidly.
Last year they were seen swaying by the roadside amongst the daisies of an earlier blog posting.
This year there are none there.
These ones are by the waterfront.
Despite the negative connotations of the Poppy fields of Afghanistan, and the destruction they bring to families & society , there is something innocent, rural , transient and impressionistic, in a poppy filled wheat field.
Perhaps because the poppy flower blooms as briefly as the lives of those soldiers who died in the trenches?
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