6/30/2022
When we bought Rockwell Place, two huge delights we(me) were excited about were trees-two trees specifically: a double magnolia and a beautiful century oak. I romanticized them, both of them.
We moved in and the trees shaded the harshness of summer heats and the leaves whispered against autumn breezes.
Then we noticed something that first full winter…the double magnolia had a few fairly dead branches. Pruning alone was not going to be enough for the magnolia. The magnolia and the oak were close enough that they were in constant competition for the same rain waters, the same root paths, the same sun.
We would need to choose: which tree gets to remain.
Now, if I hadn’t romanticized both trees, it truthfully would have been a straightforward decision. But I had romanticized them. I’d drooled over magnolia blossom fragrance in vases and even went so far as trying to find a paint match for a kitchen painting project.
In the end, truth won out.
The magnolia had so many rotten branches that even if an arborist trimmed and shaped, the outcome was inevitable, already decided.
So, I’m this remaining short season, we will celebrate all that the magnolia has offered and is still trying to offer. Each blossom is received as a fragrant blessing.
