San Francisco, California

Nothing could be more California than the California poppy, and nothing could better represent where we are today than this one all alone. These poppies usually grow in large, cheerful bunches along the sides of roads, in abandoned lots, along miles of rugged coastline. As we were first building up our garden a few years back, poppies volunteered themselves to fill in every available empty space. Thinking them an abundant resource and therefore expendable, I pulled them all directly after their blooms faded, and the next year there were none. Slowly, they’re coming back again, their seeds flying in, no doubt, from elsewhere. Now I’m careful to maintain the balance between overtake and overkill - making sure the poppies stay in check, but trying to encourage sufficient reseeding to welcome back a civilized amount next year.

This one is the year’s first bloom, from a seed that has somehow landed in a geranium pot on the deck instead of in the garden. It stands all alone against our view of Billy Goat Hill. Plucky, I’d say. And optimistic. It’s kind of how I felt yesterday, listening out the front door for music in the neighborhood. Somebody - I’m not sure who - organized a city-wide sing-along of “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” led by none other than Tony Bennett. We were supposed to sing from our windows at noon.

Ours is a very quiet neighborhood on any given day, much less in the middle of a pandemic, and sitting on the front stoop, my expectations were relatively low. But then a piano down the street began the song and a couple stopped to sing along; a car passed by the house with Tony Bennett at full volume; I saw a usually shuttered house across the street with windows open and elbows on the sill; and on my Twitter feed, I watched the local firemen shyly singing - six feet apart and standing in the middle of the street. I can’t say it was an overwhelming experience, but what can you expect? Even Tony Bennett was singing from another city, and the rest of us San Franciscans were scattered to the winds. But it was a noble effort and appropriate for the times. We are neighbors more than ever - together, alone.

I’ve missed the chance this year to see the California poppies in their natural abundance along the roads. I look forward to having a few more soon to enjoy inside our garden. But for now, I’ll be like this poppy, an optimistic solo act, waiting to join my neighbors once again.