The magnolia tree in our garden started growing this Spring’s buds in November. It does that, holds everything inside. The ones that dared to start opening during the winter have gone brown on the inside, killed by frost and impatience. But most of them have held on, waiting for the right time to bloom, and knowing still, that it is not yet here. But bloom they will, for two short weeks, in the earliest warmth, and those flowers will be stunningly beautiful. I wonder if they know that.
Perhaps, for them, held closed, zipped up for so long, sensing those brave enough to open have died, they feel the time will never come for their freedom. Perhaps their hope is waning now. But from outside, where the seeing is easier, we can look at them and tell they are going to be flowers, that all that constricted energy will burst out soon in a heartachingly exquisite display of pale pink.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017