P is for Poppies.
California Poppies to be exact.
They will be appearing about January, the month that I photographed these. In my childhood and right through the 1930s whole hillsides and all the vacant lots were covered with poppies in their first exuberant burst of bloom. Then they became few and far between, at least until the time of the great Oakland fire in 1991. In the season after the fire they covered the burnt area, the place where thousands of homes had stood, in blankets of orange. But then they almost disappeared once more, except where poppy seeds had been deliberately sown.
When I was in elementary school, back in the 1920s, we had regular music classes, and one of the songs we sang (which I may not have a completely accurate memory of) went like this:
Poppies, golden poppies, gleaming in the sun,My son-in-law, Clinton Shock, phoned a little while ago and reminded me that P is also for President. I'm posting this on Tuesday, election day. It's surprising that I can even use my keyboard, since all of my fingers are crossed in an effort to ensure that our next President is Barack Obama!
Closing up at evening when the day is done.
Flower of California, children of our state
Rolling from the mountains to the Golden Gate.