• MimiElisa

Poppy fields


I couldn't resist sharing some photos from this moment in Norfolk, because it was the sort of breathtaking evening that feels like it's actually repairing you're soul- and makes photography a dream.

I'd just had a very difficult day which escalated to a breakdown in the evening, so I really felt God wrapping himself round me in a hug when I stepped out directly to this view. I sat there calmly with my brother, and let the smile come back (in itself pretty miraculous).

Most of you will know that we bought a motorhome at the beginning of this year, with the idea that it'll make getting away easier. It was a sort of existential crisis for my dad, although I prefer to use the word spree, because he never quite reached the crisis stage. As a child he would tumble along in his dad's 1970's campervan, the four brothers squashed in the back together- and as soon as he moved out and could afford one, he bought one for himself. So I kind of understand why it was a close to heart proposition when he started to shyly let on that he wanted one again. His campervan was called Murphy, and was as red as these poppies. And he would take nineteen-year-old mum out in Spain in it to the mountains.


I'm pretty disappointed that ours is not at all as romantic-looking. I mean those 1970's campervans look pretty gorgeous on film, but one of these days I'll have to accept that the modern world just ain't so pretty.

So far I suppose we have been better at getting away. Whether it's for just for a one night party with my friends, or a whole week away with the family, I've been feeling like there's been more fresh air and exploring woods and rivers and beaches. I've said it before, but again, it's amazing how quickly we forget what having no reason to be stuck inside is like.


The title of this post isn't quite accurate, as all it was was a spot with a couple of dozen poppies growing. Then again, I think to us they felt so lovely, that it felt like an abundance. (That, or it was just a lazy title option).

After a peaceful half an hour or so, the dog came bounding up to us asking for a walk. I had the film camera on me, so was playing around with that, and my brother had the DSLR in hand. But we headed down to the beach in the end, more than a little whistfully leaving the spot behind.

I chose to leave all the photos unedited, and I guess you could say I gained a feeling of freedom from that. There's something comforting to know that, every once in a while, your camera actually wants to work with you instead of against you- it doesn't feel like that all the time.


How precious are your thoughts towards me, oh God. They cannot be numbered! I can't even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand. And when I wake up, you are still with me.

Psalm 139 vs 17-18

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