magnolia (never a moonlit lie)

After a spring hiatus, I return to writing, with thoughts of my mother, who never mythologized the South but rather cultivated her own garden, plainly, authentically.


Photo: Magnolia virginiana var. australis, University of Delaware Botanic Gardens



  1. Scribbleheart

    Bonjour ma belle! I’m so happy to have a new (and delicious) post from you! It makes me want to scoop vanilla ice cream from Bertillon directly into my mouth with flower petals.
    My (French) mother’s day (today, May 29th!) is filled with bliss: my firstborn daughter is expecting! I’m going to be a Grand-mère! And I feel like a steel and stellar magnolia, my mind all tilt-a-whirl with adventures to come! Bises from Sharron xoxo

  2. Dan Hise

    One is delighted to have you at the door again, and with such a splendid present. Dang, I wish I had thought of the tilt-a-wheel trope!

    Please keep writing and living well. And sharing the bounty of both.

    1. Catherine Hamrick

      Thanks. I’m glad it resonated. I was not sure if I would be the only one to feel that wheel. But I guess a few of us took an old carnival ride or spinning teacups. Bounty–now that is a puzzle. Writing runs lean these days. We will see.

  3. Bea dM

    Ah, there you are! I was wondering where you’d gone off to. Glad you’re back, and with a wondrous magnolia, which resonates with the two enormous magnolia trees outside my studio window here: we’re on the third floor, and this year’s blooms look ready to start wafting their evening scent soon. It runs in the family: my grandmother loved them too: they reminded her of her house in Manila

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