What a joy each morning  to be greeted by a poppy.

All I have to do is step outside my kitchen door with my mug of  dark, aromatic, steaming coffee and glance towards them. Each day offers a new bud, a new flower, a new combo, a new visitor (a bee) and, ultimately, fallen petals. Unlike the more static echineaceas or cone flowers, that are persisting beyond the poppies’ time, these delicate creatures are about transformation. And each one is such an individual.

I decided to record them each morning or evening in this past month of July as they unfolded.  Resembling delicate, translucent rice paper, they offered plenty to photograph. At the mercy of a a strong breeze or a rainfall, they’d dance as they’d fall to a leaf or the ground below.

Sometimes quite revealing … sometimes wistful, even shy … ultimately gone.