On being a Magnolia.

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Toorak Magnolia
Toorak Magnolia

In a stately garden in Toorak there grows a Magnolia. Huddled in my cape, ears ensconced in chocolate brown rabbit fur ear muffs, fingers clad in red  gloves that never quite fit their length, I walk past her. As I push the gloves down at the crevice between each finger, trying to match their length with that of my digits, I look up. And there she is. A blooming magnolia framed by a wrought iron fence.

Magnolias bloom at their fullest in the bitterest hyperborean weeks of the long Melbourne winter. On naked branches they exhibit their folds and hues so affably it’s hard to understand how they do it given that their branches look so sparse, gnarled and stark.

My external environment of late, is pretty sparse, gnarled and stark at times starting with my 4:30am alarm. As I get up, my body aches with cold not to mention my mind. How do Magnolias do it? You really have to admire them for more than their beauty.

 

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3 thoughts on “On being a Magnolia.

    Margaret Lobegeiger said:
    July 30, 2013 at 4:44 pm

    Love it! Wish your were warm.

    Sent from my Telstra Next G device

    San said:
    July 30, 2013 at 5:15 pm

    Absolutely beautiful.

    Patricia said:
    July 31, 2013 at 1:12 am

    I just love magnolias too. Do you know the poem by Patience Strong, The White Magnolia Tree? I always think of it when I see these wonderful flowers.
    Get a hot waterbottle. They do wonders in keeping you warm.
    Sun out here so hope it is out for you too. oxox

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