In a previous post I ruminated on the planting of some red poppy seeds I harvested from a patch of red poppies that I noticed growing at my 93-year-old grandfather's house last year. Several weeks have passed, yet the brilliant red poppies continue to provide a colorful display in my yard, and they appear to have at least another week left of color.
There is an interesting contradiction in the red poppy, a flower associated with wartime death whose long lasting and vibrant colors simultaneously remind us of life. I spent a few minutes in the searing 96-degree heat today gazing at my small patch of poppies, in sublime awe at their beauty and stamina. On a day when many of my flowers seemed parched and wilting, the poppies continued to blaze away in their scarlet glory, almost oblivious to the heat.
I plan to harvest even more of the seeds of these beautiful flowers this summer, and I envision a sea of red in my yard next June and July.