What better time to wake from my slumber than Spring. Being consistent is a challenge, especially when it has to do with me using my voice. I’ve a lot going on within, thoughts like atoms, splitting into particles, going a thousand directions. There is never silence in my mind…but what is life without sharing? No one can hear if I…you…don’t speak up.
Poppies are the state flower of California. They grow wild, sprinkling the hills or flat Central Valley with bright bursts of orange. It’s illegal to pick them, and even if one did, poppies get their revenge and wilt immediately. They’re truly flowers for ALL to enjoy.
Thus I loved seeing these wild poppies blooming recently near the entry to Milan’s yellow metro line. Redder than their Californian relatives, they gave me great pleasure, as they fluttered in the breeze. Poppies bloom briefly, but when they do it’s with gusto, making a statement.