The magnolias are in on this end of season extravaganza. The dwarf variety in the kirk yard (ok, it’s a church yard – there is just something in my past that skews that reference – I need to look into genetic memory) has looked kind of puny all year, with the rains and steam heat. In these almost brisk September mornings it is glorious – fragrant and glossy. The tree was planted there in memory of a young man killed in the line of duty as a police officer. I am always pleased to see it looking healthy. Someday no one will know why it was planted (unless it shows in parish records) but a tree is always a fitting tribute to a fine young man.