A poppy in my sisters garden. She lives in Phoenix AZ and this was taken early in the morning, not too long after the sun rose. The morning air was just starting to move bringing the remnants of the strange night smells to my nose. As the neighborhood was still quiet it was a surreal moment. Warm sun rising, the buzz of insects, and a perfume in the air I did not recognize.
Yet my thoughts were on what this poppy symbolizes to Canadians. We wear a plastic version of this on our lapel every November 11 to remember our war veterans. And so my thoughts were far away, wandering the fields of Belgium 90 years ago, in cold rain and sucking mud.
The sun was warm, the petals fluttered briefly, I exhaled softly, and caressed the shutter.