Oxford’s Marvellous Magnolias

Today I take advantage of a break in the cloud and incessant rain to snap a few pictures of Oxford’s marvellous magnolias. The blooms arrive suddenly in March, full blown and blowsy and are over in a blink of an eye. But not before everyone has invariably had time to declare that this has been the best year for magnolias ever.

My affection for magnolias goes back to my early childhood home, which had a tree of white tulip shaped flowers growing on a raised dais at one end of the garden. It was as if the tree knew it was putting on a show. My father who was a great storyteller especially of fairy tales encouraged us to believe that the tree was in fact a princess, bewitched on her wedding day by a wicked spirit, jealous of her forthcoming marriage. Once a year however, in the spring, she is allowed to reveal her ravishing bridal gown. And this she does in a sudden outpouring of blossom. She pours her heart into the flowering for she has such a very short time before her trousseau begins to fade and fall. Leaving the petals like the confetti that never was, strewn on the grass.

It’s a story about the ephemerality of nature and so I cannot help but feel a tinge of sadness as I watch the wind already stripping the branches of their blooms. Except that as they are our most ancient of flowering plants, dating back over 100 million years, they are in fact rather resilient. There are fossils to prove it. They existed even before bees, so developed a pollination cycle completed by beetles, a routine that sees the flowers close to imprison the creatures overnight, releasing them only in the morning when fertilisation is certain . Hence the tough waxy petals to withstand the insects’ heavier apparel. During the ice age when the single land mass split, some ended up in North America, others in Asia. There are well over 200 species. The first to arrive on our shores was brought back from the New World by Henry Compton the Bishop of London in 1687.

My favourite magnolias in Oxford grow in Worcester College. As a local I am allowed entry to their gardens every afternoon, so at this time of year I can get close up to the wonderful magnolia ‘Iolanthe’ its large cup shaped rose pink flowers the size of dinner plates as it cascades and collides into its more delicate neighbour. But everybody has the chance to catch a glimpse of the college treasures. Walking from the railway station into town, swathes of white and purple planted on the boundaries of the college tumble over Worcester’s exterior walls. You cannot miss them. The College is obliged to sweep the pavements outside daily during these weeks to prevent slipups on the profusion of falling petals. These magnolias are truly awe inspiring and to see them is to be able to tick off one of the many wonders of Oxford.

There’s another beauty outside Hertford College, on Catte Street. Set against the honey-coloured stone of the buildings, the pale pink faces eagerly reach out for a peek at the Radcliffe Camera. And then a short walk to the High Street side of The University Church of St Mary the Virgin where a large group of visitors have beaten me to it and are busy photographing the stunning upright buds the colour of mulberries, their shadows silhouetted against the ancient monument. There is even a lady who seems to have dressed to match. Once associated with nobility – and much favoured by Eastern emperors who refused to allow anyone else to look at them, never mind grow them – they were reckoned to symbolise perseverance and longevity. Now the petals are thought to have use as a tonic for lung health (helpful for those of us living in the damp low lying flood plains of Oxford) and stress (likewise for a University City.)

So I am happy I got out before the rain returned. It’s an annual pilgrimage which never fails to lift the spirits. And I can vouch for the fact that this year the blossom has been the best ever.

Some photography by John Milnes