Little blossoms

When I was growing up we had a magnolia tree. Every winter Mum would show me the tiny little blossoms that formed tightly on the ends of the twigs. And every spring she’d photograph the thing in its full blaze of snowy-frosted magenta. It’s a memory we continue to share, occasionally.

A couple of years ago I was reading to my daughter. It was one of those first chapter books, about a young aspiring ballet dancer. There was a passage in it where her mum took her to sit under a magnolia tree. I coughed, and kept reading.

Magnolia

Usually, before school, this tree is crawling with tiny, blossoming people, wrinkling through its branches. But today, this. Immediately, my mind goes back to the tree at our old house, both now long gone. And the throwaway kids’ novel. And, strangely, a quote from ‘The Little Prince’ by Antoine de Saint Exupery: ‘the land of tears is such a secret place.’

Advertisements

One thought on “Little blossoms

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s