One of the best thing about bringing our boys to Europe is that they are connecting more and more with history.

It’s been very moving to see them make a connection between the paper poppies we buy (in autumn) for Anzac Day in New Zealand and the real-life poppies of early spring that flourished in the craters and trenches in the First World War.

They are asking lots of questions.

Wandering around in the the neighbour’s paddock, taking photos of the poppies this morning, it struck me that with all the hype around the 100 year commemoration of the ANZAC landings at Gallipoli (and feeling a bit like we are ‘missing out’), nature has offered up something better.

The wild poppies are silent and beautiful and fleeting. They say everything that needs to be said.

I’ll be encouraging the boys to walk among the poppies on Anzac Day and not say anything at all.

I just really hoping the farmer will hold off ploughing it – because I have a very bad feeling…