Poppy field in the rain

As a child, poppies captured my imagination like nothing else. I imagined them speaking to me in red hues, and I whispered to them each spring, waiting until the next. Until I grew up and my eyes searched for them even in autumn, yearning for their fragile petals and their presence. From solitary walks in…

Cliff impressions

On the cliffs, where waiting for rain becomes a poetic endeavour.