The Magnolia

I believe the Magnolia tree is, by far, the most pleasing and greatest of the arbolean species. The magnolia tree is first of all a staple of southern gardens; it grows large, and its leaves are broad and thick, shading one from the sun extremely well. When touring the White House this summer, as you look out of the red room towards the Ellipse and the Washington Monument, you can look down and see a red brick patio and wrought iron chair and table, all shaded by a venerable magnolia, whose branches have snaked outwards so far they need support by means of thick cables stretching inwards to be anchored at her trunk.

The branches of the magnolia are another phenomenon. An older magnolia that has not seen any pruning will resemble, not a tree, but rather a bush of 50 feet tall, as its branches sprout immediately from the truck, and stretch primarily straight outwards, like spokes from the hub of a wagon wheel. Its leaves grow dense and, as mentioned earlier, are more opaque than other leaves, so that if one walked into a magnolia “bush” like this to stand by the trunk, it would be quite like entering a little fort, and even during the midday it would be quite dark.

If a magnolia has been shown the proper care in its youth, the branches of the magnolia behave the same, but appear about 10 feet up the mature trunk. My grandfather used to have a beautiful old magnolia in his front yard of this type; the tree was so old it stood taller than the 3 story colonial house. The trunk bulged with the lesions that appeared from the pruning of its lower branches, now healed, barked up with the tree’s scar tissue, forming the perfect hand and footholds for scaling the trunk before gripping the lowest branch. Once there, one could climb the tree with such ease a one legged man could do it, as the branches came so close together and of such perfect circumference for gripping with the hands. I would climb to the top of my grandfathers magnolia, until there was only one branch to hold onto, and, scaling up this like a monkey up a palm tree, would cling to the top tree branch, my head barely escaping the foilage, swaying dangerously in any breeze but alive with adrenaline, feeling the view of the James River over the roof of the house was truly mine, earned by the effort and courage it took to climb the tree.

Apart from making such magnificent climbing trees, the magnolia is in addition sweet-smelling and beautiful. In the spring it produces large white blossoms that perfume the air wherever they are, whether it be a manicured garden or the edge of a public park. They provide shade better than most, and I feel almost anytime I have really enjoyed sitting for a long while in the shade outside, it ought to have been in the shadow of a magnolia.