My Favourite French Word

I took this picture of Lily and Grace in a park in Nîmes for two reasons.  One, the girls look lovely:  two, this is just what my dream flower meadow would look like on the hill up beside our house back home.  My imagined wild flower fields always include poppies.  I have tried to start small with various combinations of wild flower seed packets, but am afraid that to viably compete with the thick tangle of blackberry bushes and horse tails would mean a dedication and investment beyond the sprinkling of seeds and the crossing of fingers.  

However, this spring in France has renewed my resolve to get some poppies growing in our clay packed, rain soaked soil.  Wild poppies are everywhere and they look beautiful.  What's more, I couldn't have invented a better French word for them if I tried: les coquelicots, les coquelicots, les coquelicots.  It's perfect.