Spring is here.

"Yes, I know I look like a fried egg. But please, don't say it to my face, as I am proud and tender."

WE'RE IN the in-between time, when winter and spring are entwined, and wintery blooms bask in springtime sunlight, like daring redheads grabbing their moment by the pool. This is the short interval when Los Angeles is mild and buttery, like this Iceland Poppy, a.k.a. Papaver nudicaule.

I still can't believe I grew this flower. I would take all the credit, except God knows and I know who Really Did It. I imagine growing an Iceland Poppy is something like making a baby. You marvel at what you seem to be creating, yet you wonder at where the heck it came from.

It's Poppy time!

Poppy Party.

Hellzapoppyin'.