Magnolia time...

Is the beauty worth the cleanup?

It’s Magnolia season, and in the garden next door here in Brooklyn, my neighbor has two tall Magnolia trees that blossom every year right around this time. The petals are beautiful and the smell divine…for about five minutes.
I always wonder is it worth it?

I think the way one feels about Magnolia trees says a lot about that person’s personality. Their beauty is so ephemeral. The trees blossom and then, if it rains or it’s windy, as it always is in April, the pink and white petals are mostly gone the next day, leaving a huge mess to clean up.
Somehow, the carpet of Magnolia petals are not quite as pleasant when they’re scattered everywhere and you’re the one left to clean up. It’s even worse if someone is armed with a gas-powered leaf blower.
I was standing in a t-shirt in my garden the other morning, as I do every day of the year—rain, shine or snow—feeling the weather and looking at this unholy mess when my neighbor came out.

The thing is, she and her family are renting the house so this is the first time she’s experienced the Magnolia maelstrom.
“Those trees are beautiful but they leave a real mess,” she said.
“You’re right.”
We both looked around. Our gardens were filled with thousands of pink and white petals waiting to be picked up. “Do you think it’s worth it?” I asked.
She laughed. “Honestly, no.”
“I always wonder about that,” I said. “It’s nice when they bloom but they come and go. I’m with you. I don’t think it’s worth it either.”
And there is the sad truth. One of my lifelong mantras is my desire to surround myself with beauty but I do get annoyed by, of all things, Magnolia petals. You’d think someone who rides the subway each day would have other things to worry about, like getting pushed off a platform by a deranged derelict or being stabbed by an angry drug user.
But, as always in life (or is it just me), almost nothing is completely rational. There’s a price to be paid for beauty and, in this case, I generally don’t think Magnolias are worth the hassle.
I hate to admit that to myself. Why can’t I just accept the beauty for what it is and stop complaining? Or perhaps eat them as The Times suggested this week.
I need a new outlook. So for the past week, I’ve started a new habit that I hope will last forever or at least a few months. When I go out into the garden in the morning, I sweep, trying to adopt the attitude of a Japanese gardener raking the sand.
I don’t come up with intricate designs but the least I can do is sweep away whatever natural mess I find each morning. And there is always something in the garden to pick up. Today it’s the petals, tomorrow it will be leaves.
So I sweep, making it a point NOT to listen to a podcast or music. I want to hear the birds, that pesky woodpecker, or the swishing of the broom and think about….nothing.
I’ve stopped reading the newspaper in the morning. It’s always the same complaints from one side or the other of the political spectrum. I’d rather sweep, even all those pesky pink petals. Maybe they have their magic after all.