Poppies are coming up everywhere. Big fat oriental poppies, almost obscene to look at. And if you ever dare cut them to bring their gaudy sexiness with you, a little forbidden thrill, they die. Refusing to be tamed or touched. Even poppies need their freedom to live.
I am leaving. I have the fabulous rush of several time zones, continents, airplanes and boats ahead of me the next few months. I haven't done any real traveling since I moved here from Italy, and I have felt a bit dead for it.
May my travels give me a new desire to write. Here, not just for work.