There’s this one little magnolia tree in Oak Bay that I visit every spring. It is remarkable because the tree itself is quite small… But the flowers that bloom, once they open completely, are almost the size of volleyballs! How can those wee, delicate branches hold up so much beauty? This year, I was a little early… because last year I was a little late. Magnolias are a fleeting phenomenon, it seems. They bud and bloom into perfect exquisiteness and then they are gone in a matter of days. So it’s hard to time it just right, especially when I don’t live in the area. But I just can’t get over this tree. It’s one of those things I wait for all year and savour it all the more because it’s a once a year event… like tasting fresh berries in June, or spotting that first house to turn on the Christmas lights. Oh, and the baby lambs that leap and twist in the daffodil fields. And the insulating quiet of winter’s first snowfall. It’s a different kind of quiet, isn’t it? … I could go on and on. There’s something reassuring about the cyclical nature of things, and the looking forward to those things that manifest in their own time. All is well in the world when this little tree expresses its love for spring. And once the petals fall, I know I will be back in twelve months to take it all in once again.