on the magnolia

Even though I've lived in Texas off and on for decades, there are a few things (other than the fact that I will forever feel, as we say, "Trini to de bone"), that will likely always keep me from ever being a true Texan. They include, in no particular order, my inability to develop:

1. a love of chicken fried steak (see also: biscuits and gravy);

2. an appreciation of most country & western music (though there are a few rare exceptions); and

3. a passion for the magnolia.

With regard to the last: It's not that I hate the magnolia. In fact, I've always seen the potential in the magnolia blossom. However, it seems to me that just when they open -- almost to the minute -- they disintegrate. Their petals turn brown, and all the stamens (pistils? I never remember) fall off. So while Texans always wax poetic about the majesty of the magnolia, I find myself staring at them rather confused.* I've always found them so disappointing.**

As it happens, we have a large magnolia tree in our front yard. As it also happens, it's blooming like crazy right now. So, as I have done in the past with baby's breath and carnations, I grabbed my camera to get nice and close, in the hopes of figuring out what all the fuss is all about.