These spotted poppies were in a front yard that I passed on Ashbury as I walked (full of Friday afternoon ambition after finishing work) over the hill that separates the Haight from the Castro. The fog was rolling in early. This part of San Francisco was very windy, with sun and shade alternating, and I took about 37 pictures of the gyrating poppies in order to get just one that would be halfway-intelligible. Never before have I seen poppies with a big dark dot in the middle of each petal.
Walking on territory where I don't often walk, I naturally found new examples of my preferred motifs in urban embellishment – though exactly why I have chosen to make a cult out of industrial lettering and house numbers and spray-painted squiggles is not a question I can answer.
On the Castro side of the hill the fog had not yet arrived. The air was warm and the colors were bright.