All day each blossom opens
from a bare branch no bigger
than the handle of a teacup,
bursts out of a dark pink bud
and, it has in turn burst
from a fuzzy cocoon, once tight and brown.
Yet, from cups and saucers,
the cream and rose
pour out again and again.
This poem is after Ted Kooser's poem "Screech Owl" from Delights & Shadows. The photos are mine. Words in colour will take you to another website with additional information, if you click on them.
Here in the South, Magnolias are simply a part of life in most gardens. The odd thing is, I haven't a one! I see you have a little raccoon friend visiting. Those cute little faces are deceiving.. beneath lies a sneaky little stinker!
You are lucky to have magnolias. It is a piece of work to have them survive here. Yes, I'm aware that raccoons are problems as well as a pleasure. They're very smart and good at outwitting the measures put in place to control them.
Hi Carol. I like the metaphor of cups and saucers, fragile, yet holding so much! Jane
what a beautifully coloured magnolia, much darker than most of ours
Thank you Jane. Feedback from you is always helpful.
Thanks GCP. I love this magnolia even though it's a bit tricky to grow them to a tree size in our climate. It should grow into a good sized shrub, if the snows don't get it.
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