The magnificent magnolia blossom was also the inspiration behind the term Steel Magnolia, representing an independent southern woman, who is fiercely strong and yet immensely feminine.
Magnolia trees are especially magical for me. A beautiful magnolia lived in the front yard of the home where I raised my children. I tended to that tree for years. My boys loved her too - climbing in her branches and playing in the leaves she would shed year round.
For the last thirteen years, I've also known a special pair of magnolia trees. They lived just outside my office, in the middle of Atlanta. There were many times when I sought solace in their shade. Spoke to them. Asked them questions. Listened to their wisdom. They were sacred to me.
A couple of months ago I noticed an orange X had been spray painted on both of my special magnolias. The construction had begun on the building on that lot, and they had decided to cut down those trees.
I had no idea when they would be removed and spent a lot of time over the past few months with those trees. Talking to them. Thinking about their spirits. Then, one day, they were gone.
I was entirely breathless when I saw the view without them for the first time. I was sad that I had not collected a leaf or something more than a few pictures before they were cut down.
I meditated near there for a few days following them being chopped up and removed. I realized that their spirits lingered, having risen higher, playing in the clouds now. No longer rooted to that exact spot in the dirt. Their presence gave me comfort.
Their presence also made itself known to me. As I walked to my car one day, I saw a large magnolia leaf right in front of the door of my car. I was parked down under the building in a deck and looked all around to see if there were any other leaves. There were none.
I picked up this single leaf, knowing it had a message for me. After pulling out onto the street and passing the spot where the magnolias used to stand, I noticed something wedged under the construction fence circling the lot. It was a magnolia pine cone.
I retrieved the cone and stood there looking at it in the sunlight. I had never seen one of these up so close and could not believe what I was seeing.
The intricacies of this dark, spiny pod were shocking. Thousands of identical little indentations - the magnificence of this natural detail swept over me. For a moment, I stood there crying.
There was some sawdust pressed into the cone - remnants of the trees' former form. I've left them there and placed it, along with the leaf I found, on a table near a window in my bedroom.
I've always known trees were magical, but the healing I've received from Magnolia has penetrated through me like no tree spirit has before. I am grateful for her sweet and enduring femininity.