May 22, 2004
Smell-o-vision
Magnolia Grandiflora
Hanging over a picket fence, North 25th and East Grace Streets
I slept through the thundershowers last night. The only traces they left are patches of damp in the shade and the washed-clean colors of the sky and trees. On a walk this morning, I see people setting up tables for a neighborhood yard sale in Libby Hill Park. They all cling to the shade of the oak trees and I pass them by to walk out on the edge of the bluff. The wind comes up from the river and through the ginkgo trees, where it blows the night's raindrops from the leaves to cool my bare arms and legs.
Further along my route I see this magnificent magnolia blossom, just opened this morning, at perfect sniffing height. While I'm taking its picture, a father and his three-year-old son walk up, the father speaking in instructive parental tones. "Look, that's a magnolia tree. See all those big white flowers? They smell very nice." He sees me as they walk around a low hanging branch. "And there's a lady taking pictures. Say hello."
The child darts behind his father's legs and the father looks embarrassed.
I say, "That's okay. I'm really scary." I close the camera and bring up a picture of the flower on its little screen. I kneel down to the child's height and hold out the camera. "Would you like to see a picture of the flower?"
"Don't you want to see the picture?" the father echoes.
The child peers out between his father's knees, then hides his face again. I have this effect on children. Oh well. It's good I don't have any.
I bid them farewell and the father returns to instructive parent mode. "Okay, the scary lady's gone now. Would you like to smell the flower?" He lifts up his already distressed son, who is even more disturbed by the flower that's bigger than his head and starts whimpering. So the poor child is probably traumatized now. Magnolias can be very overwhelming.
340 words | May 22, 2004 07:39 PM | Shutterbug