My Gran’s Magnolia

I got to wander around in my friend Sandra’s yard this weekend.

As I stood under her Magnolia tree I took a trip back in time, to my maternal grandparents’ yard.

Their home was on a hill looking at Hibriten Mountain.

At the drive was a huge Magnolia.

I played under that tree. I thought the blooms were magic.

Gran had a special vase just for a bloom.  I have it now.

The pods reminded me of bear’s claws.

My sister and I mentioned the tree to Gran while she was in a nursing home, near the end, basically unresponsive.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

I don’t know how to explain loving a tree or bush or flower,

but some of us really do.



My Friends’ Magnolia

Almost thirty years ago, we were given a young Bigleaf Magnolia (Magnolia macrophylla) tree from the yard of some friends.

We admired a larger one of these trees through a sky-light in their dining room.  It looked like big green umbrellas.

Magnolia macrophylla
Magnolia macrophylla

The Cunninghams dug up a small one for us that evening.

The tree is now over twenty feet tall.


Last year it had its first ever bloom.

This spring it has eleven.


Worth the wait?

You tell me.


Wait for the FLOWER.