Monday 2nd April

And now for a fabulous three weeks, but three weeks only folks, we have the blooming of the blooming marvelous magnolia.  This quiet boring little tree that inhabits many a suburban garden quietly minding its own business for forty-nine weeks a year, growing slowly and steadily, but honestly – not that much to look at – suddenly about now, bursts into bloom.  And it always takes me by surprise and absolutely takes my breath away.  Because actually you aren’t looking for it, the tree is no innocuous that you forget about its’ once a year spectacular display.  Too busy admiring all the ground level plants, the crocuses and daffodils, the hyacinths and early primroses.  Then suddenly it is the turn of the trees, the apple and the cherry, in all shades of pink and white tiny flowers that seem to light up the neighbourhood.  But they are all put to shame by the magnificent magnolia.  And the flowers are huge, and on every branch and all pointing upwards to the sky, the buds burst open all on the same day to reveal large spikes of creamy white and pink and dainty yellow, then they swell out from the base, and all at once the petals open to exclaim hallelujah to the very heavens.  The tree is suddenly a riot of colour and each flower a perfect copy of its neighbour.  The symmetry is gorgeous; the whole tree is balanced like a great big birthday cake aflame with hundreds of candles.  It makes you stop and wonder at the perfection of nature.  The petals shine for a few days then they open up wider and wider until they droop under their own weight and in a day or two they are gone, momentarily carpeting the lawn with a blanket of pink and white and palest yellow.  Then it is over for another year; one of natures’ finest displays and the humble magnolia settles down for another year of obscurity, just another boring tree.   The colours are always startling, often the deepest of rose pink at the base and a clear white at the tips or an even gentle pink or warm yellowy white.  Which makes it such a surprise when you open a tin of magnolia paint to find the dullest of colours, a completely nondescript nothing of a colour, almost an apology for or an absence of any real colour.  Magnolia paint must be the most badly named paint in the world.