Wonderful World

17 May 2012

The most amazing thing happened today. The first magnolia bloomed in one of the many magnolia trees in the front yard. This particular tree is lackadaisical by nature. It is a late-bloomer. Maybe you can relate? Other magnolias are blooming all over town. But this…this one tree likes to wait. Make us anticipate. Anticipation is great, so no complaints. Waiting is fun. So each year when this tree’s first bloom appears, it is an event. After all these years doing its thing slowly but surely, it is amazing grace on a tree. A gift.

Seems this tree has a purpose for me. Each year it reminds me of the wonder of ‘firsts’—first loves, first kiss, all those things you remember as Firsts. The first time you rode a bike and looked back to see no one was holding you? Your first job? First hurt, first time you realized middle-age is a quirky time when you must re-learn every thing you thought you knew all over again. That mighty tree is proof everything happens in its own sweet time, not on any one or anything else’s schedule. The simple act of a wait-on-me magnolia blossom relates to that? I think so, maybe because I was as late a bloomer as this magnolia.

It is creamy white and fragrant. It unfolds on the tallest branch so no one can reach it. It does not give a hoot about keeping up with its peers. Its peers were donning themselves in blooms weeks ago. Yes, this magnolia births its first blossom so high no human could pick it without ample effort or equipment to reach the mighty treasure it put forth for nature’s sake only. It does not want to be a short-lived cut flower floating in a bowl. Admittedly I float and will continue to float many magnolias in a bowl, but not from this tree. It is different. It demands its efforts be, respectfully, left alone to do what it does best: bloom and re-seed.