Big yellows. I first saw them along the road many years ago. Large delicate petals of pale luminous yellow, gently flutter in the least breeze.

Every time I see them, they bring a spark of happiness.

I have since learned they are Mexican poppies.

One year, the big machines came, digging a trench for a new waterline, then paving the area that had been home to the big yellows. There they were, buried forever.

I was wrong. Upheavel somehow cast seeds farther afield. There are more along this busy road than ever before.

Today I saw the Mexican poppies twice. The yellow of soft sunshine. And I felt happiness.