Magnolia season is here, bringing me enormous pleasure as always. When I was little I used to climb the magnolia tree in our garden to sit in a crook reading or daydreaming. They are beautiful trees all year round, but mid winter, when they burst into outrageouly floppy pink bloom in contrast to all the grey damp dreariness in the air, is their peak moment.When I lived in Wellington I would ride the cable car up to the Botanical Gardens every week through magnolia season and walk a circuitous route to visit each and every magnolia tree, tracking their progress from bud to bloom to tender green leaves. So far this winter in Whangarei District I have noted the location of four magnolias on my journey into town. None of them are in a place where I can get up close and admire the detail of their fleshy petals. But today, on my way to yoga Iwill drive slowly past slowly, in awe and delight.
3 comments:
When I was very little my sister and I once made "magnolia jam", mushing up the fleshy leaves into pink-grey gloop. We couldn't understand why it tasted like claggy glue and not strawberry meringue.
We in the South will have to wait a while until our Magnolias flower...but there are snowdrops, jonquils and lambs to keep us going in the meantime....
Coming from Christchurch I feel vaguely disturbed that the Magnolias have been out in flower for a while in Palmerston North.
I can never resist writing poems about them, or taking photos, or even just smelling them.
I once gave a man I thought I was in love with, one of the blooms in a plain white box filled with the bloom and white tissue paper. Needless to say he didn't appreciate it. But I'll never forget it, I only wish I'd given it to someone who would have understood.
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