Magnolias at Cates Park; April 18, 2007

Loyal t&p readers — both of you — have no doubt noticed the relative infrequency of our postings; in fact, why not call a spade a spade: the silence has been resounding. There are extenuating circumstances, though: we blame it on the blossoms. For over a month now, members of our editorial collective have been calling in “sick.” Editors, fact-checkers, typesetters, proof-readers; even our core team of investigative journalists has shown its darker side; they whom rot-gut rye could not lay low. It has reached the point where we in management have started to regret the concessions made in the last round of collective bargaining; specifically: that the list of valid grounds for sick leave be expanded to include “spring fever.”

Cherry blossoms, snow drops, daffodils, tulips, Solomon’s seal, bluebells. When J & I were in Victoria last weekend with friends we stumbled on — and into — fields of blue camas, their yellow stamens vivid against petals of iridescent blue; reminding me of that dreamlike scene in the film version of Howards End, where Leonard Bast walks slowly through a carpet of oak-shaded blue flowers.

Best of all, though, are the magnolias, which have stood now in full flower for about a month, arranged about the city like enormous candelabras. There is one particular grove that we watch like hawks, at the entrance to Cates Park in North Vancouver. Our route to work takes us past them twice a day and we monitor their progress faithfully, waiting for that precise moment when they peak. A tree full of magnolia blossoms is breathtaking because of its sheer excessiveness; it hardly seems possible for those slender branches to support the weight of so much colour. Each blossom has a volume to it — like a wine glass filled to the brim — and there are no leaves yet to soften the effect; just that mass of soft colour held there in mid-air.