They came up the first year we moved into our newly built flat, not to be seen again. So it's true what they about poppies growing on freshly turned earth.

It seemed fitting to upload these today. I've been remembering my grandmother and the stories she used to tell me about her father, a warden who fell in WW1. All her life she held on to a bundle of letters he had written to her from the front and she told me stories about him, that undoubtedly she'd been told by her mother. He died when she was only three.