Magnolias are majestic and magnificent. I love magnolias!
Magnolias usually appear in late March in north Florida, fading by June. The sensual blooms suggest both passion and fragility, turning brown as they age. These magnolias come from my daughter’s garden.
Beth Ann Fennelly, poet and novelist, describes the magnolia flower emerging from bud to bloom.
In her collectionΒ Tenderhooks, a poem featuringΒ the magnolia is tinted with cultural influences, both European and Asian.
Frances Mayes, in her memoir Under Magnolia set in south Georgia, uses the flower in both title and as metaphor in her text.Β Here is my review.
Magnolias are part of current pop culture too. Joanna Gaines, star of HGTVβs Fixer Upper, uses the magnolia in her marketing strategy: name of her market, magazine, and product motif.
In her memoir, The Magnolia Story, she explains how magnolia buds epitomize her life path:
Nowadays when I think about the name Magnolia, I think about it in terms that refer to much more than the blossoming of our business. I think about buds on the tree, and how they really are just the tightest budsβthey look like rocks, almost and I feel like when Chip and I met, that tight little bud was me. I was risk averse, and in some ways, I donβt think I saw the beauty or the potential in myself. Then I wound up with Chip Gaines and . . . . Β Β 181
Magnolias and a theme of my memoir manuscript
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Β Β ~ Anais Nin
What blooms do you look forward to spotting in springtime? In summer?
Can you identify with the quote by Anais Nin? Have you observed this development in others?
Good morning, Marian! I never realized that magnolias were such a thing, although of course, there’s also “Steel Magnolias.”
I suppose the quotation could apply to many people who were “tight buds,” but then decide to open and bloom by taking a risk in love, career, writing a memoir. . .
Good morning to you too, Merril! I was so excited to have you meet Beth Ann Fennelly, who like you, writes across genres and wins award for her poetry. In fact, she is currently poet laureate of Mississippi.
You may never have been a tight bud, but you are certainly blooming. I appreciate your constant presence here, and encouragement always.
Our neighbors have a massive magnolia in their front yard, so weβre able to enjoy it as well. For me, nothing says spring is on itβs way like daffodils πΌ.
I wonder when magnolias bloom in Charlotte. Like you, I love daffodils and their clean, pungent scent. Hyacinths speak to me too, especially around Easter time. I remember Grandma’s sisters-in-law bringing the pink or lavenders blooms in the door before the big meal at her house. Thanks, Jill.
They usually bloom in May and June, Marian. I’m looking forward to the show. The Bradford pears which bloomed early are beautiful, but boy do they stink! π
I lived just one year in Charlotte during which time I was also planning my wedding. I don’t remember any stinky Bradford pears. Ha!
The time change really must have gotten to me; I just read my early morning query to you about “when magnolias BLOG in Charlotte.” You were kind and filled in the right meaning!
Oh gosh, they smell like sweaty gym socks…but they are beautiful. π
Lovely post and photos! My parents used to have a magnolia in their backyard years ago.
I look forward to tulips, day lilies, and daffodils (like Jill mentioned)! πΌ
Thank you, Marie.Tulips, day lilies, and daffodils (which I love too) don’t do well in Florida, I suppose it doesn’t get cold long enough here to trigger the bulbs to bloom. π
We have magnolias here, but they don’t bloom until April/May. I agree that they’re magnificent when they bloom, but often the flowers don’t last long because the strong spring winds blow them apart, poor things. I look forward to tulips and daisies and sunflowers. Could I be any more midwestern?
It’s great to hear from the Midwest, Ally. Do you live on the prairie? I wonder. Of all the flowers you mention, I assume daisies and sunflowers would be the most durable and bloom the longest. Thank you!
I equate the beautiful magnolia with my southern upbringing. Large white scented blooms draw you underneath their welcoming shade. The downside, their hard, brown crusty leaves fall constantly. Just like life, we encounter the beauty and beast.
Beautifully expressed, Carolyn. When I saw your comment I wondered how far Frances Mayes’ Fitzgerald is from your hometown of Lakeland, Georgia.
Thank you for pointing out the metaphor here. I recently saw another quote you may enjoy: βLife is like licking Honey from a Thornβ (Holly Black, Ironside). I guess the trick is to not press too hard, go gently with life so you savor the honey but miss the hard licks. π
I too love magnolias, though I learned when adding that yellow magnolia to our front yard in Chincoteague that southern magnolias are quite differen from northern magnolias. Southern ones are sturdier. Itβs those fragile appearing northern ones that come to mind when I hear the word. Their tenacity above all.
My MIL had an ailing one that stood centered through her Dining Room window. Each time weβd visit, the hubs (#1) would proclaim she should have it taken down: it was dying, he determined. But no; she too was tenacious. 20 years later, at our last meal in her home, we all enjoyed the view of the most spectacular pink magnolia. Thatβs what I think of when I hear the word. Tenacity, persistence, a hidden strength.
And that Anais Nin quote is one of my favorites. It was in early drafts of my memoir. Then it wasnβt. You know how that goes. π
You are the second reader to comment on magnolia as metaphor. I hope my Anais Nin doesn’t hit the editing floor any time soon. But I remember your warning me about the “killing of the darlings.”
By the way, when I ferried two sleepy grandchildren to school this morning, I had a chance to give them some details about who benefits from the time change this week with information from your last week’s blog post (They seemed too drowsy to be impressed, but who knows!) Thanks, Janet!
This year I look forward to seeing blooms of wildflowers [including blue larkspur, brush lupine, California poppy, wild mustard] on our hillsides. I live in the Thomas Fire area of Ventura County [CA], and see our devastated areas every day.
Oh, Ginger, I grieved your loss of vegetation – and other, larger losses – when news stories of the devastation reached the east coast. I have heard though that fire animates seeds, so I hope the hillsides bloom abundantly in the seasons ahead. Thanks for joining in the conversation today.
Iβm appreciating your lovely magnolias while here in Puerto Vallarta, Marian. Surrounded by bouganvilla. Iβm sure that is misspelled, but I canβt check right now. What features do they have in common? Extravagance! What do they lack? The fragrance of the camellia.
Forget the spelling, your message comes through loud and clear. Extravagance, yes! And sensuality, too, a quality which Georgia O’Keefe explored to the max in her floral art. In my memoir WIP I note how my plain Grandma exulted in the gorgeous beauty of her blooms. I suppose that is/was true of many Amish and Mennonite women. You see it in their quilting too. Love of colorful beauty will not be suppressed.
You surely do get around, Shirley. Mexico would be lovely this time of year with the added bonus of seeing the changes In Lydia when you return. So special!
Marian β I love, Love, LOVE the scent of magnolis in bloom. I can practically smell the blooms in the photos you shared. Thank you for the list of book titles; I’m going to add them to my must-read list.
I’ve been on the Boise River Greenbelt with my macro lens capturing shots of any and all tight buds (flowers and leaves) that will soon burst!
The arts of writing and photography go hand in hand, one enhancing the other. I notice this on your blog posts that pack a powerful punch. I’m glad you enjoyed the whiff of springtime today. Thanks, Laurie!
We used to have a magnolia bush in our front drive and it made me feel very happy when I spotted the same type of bush in full bloom just round the corner from our present location 2 days ago.
In England, the first sight of daffodils seem to herald the start of the spring and I always looked forward to that, usually towards the end of February. Spring is definitely here in the south of France.
I have never visited the south of France in any season. Thanks for all of your Facebook photos, preserving memories.
Your comments about daffodils and England reminded me of the Wordsworth poem: I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45521/i-wandered-lonely-as-a-cloud
My sister visiting Florida from Pennsylvania will catch spring twice, once here in Jacksonville and again in PA when the snow melts!
As always, safe travels to you and Peter. Wish I could join you. My writing chair get mights hard sometimes.
How lovely to have your sister around! Enjoy. A double spring? That sounds great. π
I love Shirley’s comment, above, that she might have misspelled the word bouganvilla, but she “can’t check right now”! Sometimes it’s more important to get the message across than to spend time making sure the word is spelled correctly! Way to go, Shirley! (the correct spelling is “bougainvillea”. It just popped up when I was writing it the way you did!)
Can’t wait for spring and sticking my nose into all the gorgeous flowers. I have such wonderful memories of flamboyant tropical flowers in the Congo, growing in our yard, some beautifully scented(the frangy panny we called it), and others with no scent but so much show (poinsettia for example). I love the idea of writing a memoir with the name of a flower in mind. (forget-me-not would be an obvious one, maybe too much so!).
Your comment called back a memory from one of your recent posts: Hardy’s having flowers sent to you while he was away at the beginning of your relationship. How romantic!
Like you, I am pondering a good memoir title. It won’t be a flower in my case, but in your life as a globe-trotter, it way be absolutely appropriate. Best wishes as you perservere in writing.
Thank you, Elfrieda!
I just googled it, and it should be frangi panny, not frangy panny. It didn’t pop up as a correction when I wrote it!
π
I had never seen a magnolia tree until I moved to Vancouver. The rest of Canada gets too cold in the winter. I always associated magnolias with the southern United States. So imagine my excitement when driving down Granville Street my first March in Vancouver and spotting a huge magnolia tree in full bloom. I had to ask if it was real! Every year after that I would look out for it and it never dissapointed. A gorgeous site.
Oh, Darlene. I DO remember driving down Grandville Street last August in Vancouver. The traffic was so fierce I didn’t enjoy the lovely flowers and trees until we got to the parks, Stanley Park and Capilano in particular.
You are surrounded by flowering beauty most seasons of the year in Spain, I imagine. I wonder whether you will be making a trip to Canada this year. Thanks for reading and commenting once again!
Unfortunately, Granville Street has become very congested, especially in the summer months, but it is still very beautiful. Did you get to Queen Elizabeth Park? We are spoilt with lovely flowers all year round here in Spain. I may go back to Canada for my mother’s 90th birthday in December this year. She would have a birthday on Christmas day!!
We did not get to Queen Elizabeth Park, but visiting Victoria made up for the hustle and bustle of Vancouver. I do hope you can cross the “pond” for your mother’s special 90th birthday. I remember having such a celebration for the two Ruth’s in my life: Mother Ruth and Aunt Ruthie, now both in heaven.
Speaking of tenacity, my memoir that I have been writing has the flower dandelion in it as a metaphor of my survival of a turbulent childhood. I also live in Florida and one of my favorite flowers are the white gardenias that grow giving off the sweetest scent. They also don’t last too long and turn brown rather quickly, just like life. But to be cherished for the short time that they bloom. I am enjoying all of the comments posted. A good one.
Welcome, Dorothy! I’m so happy you have commented here. I use the dandelion in one chapter of my memoir, WIP. In mine it’s not a metaphor, just a detail of the setting. I am curious about your writing experience so far. Writing memoir is not for the faint-hearted, that’s for sure. More power to you!
As a fellow Floridian, I notice the abundant gardenia bushes later in the season. My husband is allergic to the strong scent, so we haven’t planted any. Like other beauties, they are ephemeral and vanish soon. So I guess that’s a compelling reason to cherish them in the moment.
Thanks again, Dorothy, and best wishes in your writing.
Do I remember that we called the PA variety of magnolia ‘Tulip Tree?’
No, I don’t, Jack, but I googled it and found this link with photos: http://www.nativetreesociety.org/species/tuliptree.htm
The flowers on this tree (in the poplar family) look a lot like magnolia. Thanks for asking the question. π
I adore magnolias. My neighbour from my old neighbourhood ( who sadly passed away a couple of years ago but bless she was 95) had the most exquisite one in her amazing garden that started to bloom in March/April, then we would have a frost π and those delicate cream flowers would be reduced to brown mush so sad .
The poem by Beth Ann Fennelly is so beautiful I am adding it to my journal of favourite poems …thank you for that . I may look up her book along the way , sheβs good .
I can relate so much to the quote by Anais Nin she could have wrote it especially for me .
Such a beautiful subject, Magnolias, because here in Wales spring is in the air …it might be a whisper but Iβve heard it .
Cherryx
Your so good at vivid descriptions, Cherry – delicate cream blooms to brown mush. I hope the frost doesn’t kill magnolias in Wales this spring.
I’m glad you enjoyed the poem. That woman Beth Ann is so talented. When I read her poems, I think, “I wish I had written that!” But we each have our own gifts, like you opening the door to visit here with wise and witty comments each week. ha!
May the whisper in Wales become a Whoopee! very soon. 0X0
Morning Marian! (It’s the Ides of March). Ah, the sweet magnolia, whose scent is sublime. Magnificent photo of the one in your neighbourhood! We’re heading into autumn here though the plants are blooming. I’m looking out at the Frangi panny, roses, blue and white bushes I can’t identify. I check every now and then on my gardenia plant that is way too delicate for the summer heat. Now that’s a fragrant flower ..
I love that AnaΓ―s Nin quote. It says much.
Yes, the Ides of March brings to mind the play Julius Caesar. You are so good at paying attention to seasons and obvserving other connections. And you remind me that as spring approaches here, you in another hemisphere are heading into fall.
Elfrieda (above) mentioned the frangi panny flower in the Congo where she and her husband lived for many years. Curious, I looked it up and found many different images. Here’s one that may or may not match yours in South Africa:
https://www.eyeem.com/p/105458293
It’s always good to hear from you, Susan. Thank you!
That is the very one Marian thank you!
I love magnolias. I’m glad they also grow around here. But not like Florida! You made me so homesick for Florida I refused to comment yesterday. Ha!
My boss and her family are coming to Amelia Island week after next–that’s near Jacksonville, isn’t it? This is funny: she has two daughters, Grace, 6, and Amelia, 4. Amelia gets mad in church whenever they mention “grace” and wants to know why no one talks about Amelia. (Unless you’re a big Amelia Bedelia fan!) So they actually chose their spring break vacation spot on that basis: Amelia Island! Anything they should be sure to see?
Well, Melodie, I stopped in my tracks at your reason for not commenting yesterday. Ha Ha! I’ll be envying you in mid-May when heat comes to stay here until October.
Yes, Amelia Island is a ritzy place close to Fernandina Beach north of Jacksonville, where Cliff and I attended a book festival.. Whoever your boss is should be commended for giving due deference to Amelia. She’ll never forget her mother’s thoughtfulness ~ or the beautiful island. The historic part of Fernandina Beach has art galleries and indie book shops, nice restaurants on the water too. The weather is in the 60s now but may warm up to 70 … not sure about next week. Their hotel will have brochures for other sights appropriate to kids. The beach too!
Magnolias are rare in my hometown of Ottawa, but a few of my neighbours nurture theirs to flourish in our climate. I take time to appreciate their efforts when I am out for my walks. They are exceptional.
Smart woman, Arlene! Magnolias are beautiful, but the foliage is messy with big leaves that fall down and have to be raked, at least in Florida. Thanks for checking in from Ottawa today.
Dear Marian, magnolia trees are glorious for brief, shining moments. Love your photos and the Anais Nin quote is one of my favorites. Iβm craving lilacs, daffodils and forsythia, all signs of spring as I look out at the snow (and anticipate more next week!) But just as the magnolia tree bursts into blossoms, I know spring will come. And memoirs will be written..π
Growing up, we had a huge forsythia bush out front, the curving canes looking like a bright waterfall. I’d exchange sunshine for a day or two of snow, another kind of beauty that quiets the earth.
You mention “memoirs will be written.” Indeed! Yesterday on the NAMW website I saw an advertisement about Jerry Waxler’s upcoming course. What my eyes locked onto was this: Your effort to turn your memories into a coherent whole is both a literary endeavor (youβre writing a book) and a psychological one (youβre reconstructing and repairing parts of your own psyche.) You did this TWICE. I can’ t imagine . . . !
Oh, what a perfect metaphor – the magnolia. And a beautiful quote by Nin. Magnolia are so delicate looking and fragile. I’ve never gotten too close to them, since they’re not part of the CA or NE garden scene.
But interestingly, yesterday I was visiting my near-by daughter’s home, in which she had a beautiful new house plant in her kitchen. I sniffed it happily and exclaimed, “A magnolia plant!” I’m running off to get one for my kitchen now. P.S. I was born on the Ides of March, never knowing what it meant until in high school, when I read Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. In fact, before Shakespeare, the Ides of March once signified the new year, which meant celebrations and rejoicing. I rejoice because the middle of March means spring is nearby.
I am imagining a magnolia plant with glossy leaves for your kitchen window now. Wow!
Happy Birthday, Pam. I’ll send a meme via Facebook, more official. π
I have to admit that I’m not too familiar with magnolias here in my northern latitude. Maybe I’ll have to make a pilgrimage to see some. I hope all’s well with you and that you’re blooming happily!
I’m glad you can enjoy magnolias here vicariously. I wonder what you look forward to seeing bloom in your neck of the woods. I know you must have fertile soil because Amish farmers live close by – right? Thanks for the good wishes, Rebecca!
Oh, I do love magnolias! So beautiful.
What’s not to love! Thank you, Fiona. π
And I love that poem about magnolias too
π
Nice to have come across you and look forward to following your blog
Welcome! I’m taking a wild guess that your first name is Anita. You will meet a lot of other interesting folks who comment here too. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment. Do visit again! π
I am waiting for my apple tree and lilacs to bloom, still over a month away, but worth the weight. I love their heady smell in the evening, and it lasts for only a moment. π
Cheers to apple tree and lilac blossoms. I think we all like to be over-powered by scent. Hyacinths do it for me.
Grandma L. had 3-4 lilac bushes close to the outhouse. π
Happy weekend, Jenn!
I can almost smell the magnolias all the way in New Mexico, Marian, after your photos and post! Reminds me of the tropics. Here, nothing is in bloom yet. We are a tad too high, I think. I canβt wait to see any tree blossom. Love that quote by Anais Nin and can surely relate to it. How is the magnolia intertwined with your memoir?
How is the magnolia intertwined with your memoir? Just with the Anais Nin quote about tight bud beginning to blososom.
Roses, peonies, and a dandelion or two appear in my memoir ~ along with lots of farm vegetables. I grew up in Pennsylvania where we had just a few magnolias that I remember. In Jacksonville, Florida now they will be all over town soon.
Cheers for spring in your area, Liesbet!
On our farmstead in Maine, it’s the daffodils that perform the first spectacular performance–usually in early May when the apple buds unfurl. Oh, sweet spring! π
You have a lot to look forward to. Thank you, Bette!
Delicious photograph and flowers, Marian. I smell their delicate fragrance. I have two zone 4 magnolias, 1 lightly fragrant and 1 not. I love them both and because of the cold March they probably won’t get frosted this spring like they did last year. I’m in the desert for a few days. i love so much about being here, but my body isn’t quite comfortable in a desert landscape. i guess I need humid heat or white blowing snow–or maybe it’s just the magnolias I long for. I tried a few times to download this and finally got it. I have spotty and slow internet, but your magnolias made me smile all over.
I’m glad the magnolias made you “smile all over,” Now that I think of it, I heard my mother use this expression every so often. I have been wondering how you are doing in the Arizona landscape. Even if it feels foreign, you have a change of scenery and relief from the rigors of elder care, which you so richly deserve.
Cheers to the magic of magnolias!