Magnolias, Memories, and Miracles

Magnolias and Memories

Her parents saw the magnolias first, but perhaps she sensed the ancient calling from across the park at the same time. A vague sense in the beginning, attracted by the flagrant beauty of the tree in full bloom. The delicate fragrance called her closer and with her dad’s help, she homed in on the source.

What does she remember as her soft cheek brushes against the pink petal and her little nostrils inhale the ancient scent? After all, she’s only arrived seven months ago and is just getting to know this new home. Her memory of her past is still fresh. Does she recognize another form of sacred creation with whom she now shares this earth?

Does some form of communication pass between flower and child? After all, before we, as humans, spoke, we engaged all our senses to read symbols and signs from animal behavior, plants, weather, and the wind. We’ve forgotten that we once knew these forms of communication.

Magnolia is an ancient genus. Fossil records suggest the genus has existed from the Cretaceous period (145-66 million years ago), making it the first flowering plant. It was around before the existence of bees and was pollinated by ancient beetles.

Magnolias have seen ice ages, continental shifts, volcanos, and the formation of mountains. They carry much knowledge.

The extract of their bark has been used for over 1,000 years in traditional Chinese and Japanese medicine for illnesses ranging from asthma, depression, and headaches, to muscle pain.

What wisdom does the Magnolia impart when she connects with its scent? How will this imprint in her memory bank from this moment? What will she remember about who she is and where she came from? How will it inform how she lives her life?

Right now, the world revolves around her and will for some time. Hopefully, she’ll return to this moment and remember she’s part of the same miracle that created the magnolia. And at the same time, she’ll recall the love of the parents who brought her here. Not just to this world, but to the magnolia tree. She’ll recall the dad who’s holding her and the mom who captured the moment when the magnolias reminded her that we’re all connected. Part of something so much larger than us.

Read: Listening with All Our Senses: Discovering Forgotten Wisdom



Author, writer, student and motorcycle aficionado Liz Jansen combines her artistic mediums to create stories that inspire readers to embark on their own journey of self-discovery. No helmet or jacket required.

4 Comments on “Magnolias, Memories, and Miracles

  1. What a beautiful piece, Liz! I am drawn to Magnolia’s, I even had named my Louisiana born dog Magnolia. I have moved to a new home with enough yard space and am adding a yellow Magnolia tree (called a butterfly Magnolia) in my lovely dogs memory.

    Thank you for your words, beautiful and thought provoking. Great way to start my Friday morning!
    Stay safe, Liz

    • Thank you Lissa! That Magnolia lives not too far from your new home. I’m glad to see you’re enjoying it there.
      And you stay safe as well!

  2. Spot on and so very succinct Liz and like the many Magnolias and other assorted blossoms we have enjoyed theses past weeks, touchstones all. Found myself quietly humming Joni Mitchell’s Circle Game whilst reading and thinking about your post. Thank you.