Magnolias

I never see the sky look bluer than over a Magnolia tree in full bloom.

The pink of the Magnolia bloom is somehow both boisterous and delicate.

The buds start out nearly magenta, but as they unfold, they color stretches out into a soft pink.

The wide blossoms eventually take over the entire tree – there are certainly still branches, and presumably the start of leaves under there, but you have to take that on faith.

For a few days it goes on like that, more glorious than seems possible on one mid-sized tree, and somehow always on that crystal blue sky.

Then one day, not enough days later, the strain of holding up all that beauty starts to take a toll. Petals’ edges begin to brown, and they lose their translucent lightness.

Then the slightest breeze comes along, or heaven forbid rain, and the once gleefully upturned petals suddenly plummet from the tree, like oversized pale raindrops, and clatter noisily down to the ground. They seem in that moment to weigh too much to have ever held gracefully upright, far too heavy for the sun ever to have passed through.

But we saw them.