From stem to rest, a poppy petal must have thought it had found its final resting place. With lightest touch, as it laces its bed of leaves with its fading edge, it leaves the faintest imprint of memory and touch. Not allowed to quietly dissolve in the June rain, it then becomes the creative material for a shelled sculptor investigating its own windows of opportunity. And voila, evolution, the fate of a poppy petal and an appetite create a whole new landscape.
© 2015 La Floralie