The petals are large and floppy, like a Basset Hound's ears.
There is a marvelous sweet fragrance. How could I have missed that? I suppose because the flowers are usually 30 feet away from my nostrils. In hand, the perfume seems miraculous.
The white purity of the petals is quickly sullied.
The foliage is like a slab of #2 plastic. Fallen leaves take months to dry out, and even then, need assistance to crumble. The roots buckle sidewalks. That sweet-smelling central cone turns into a hard red seeded cylinder that can twist an ankle, jam mower blades, and raise general garden havoc. Those flowers must be paid for.
Magnolia: putting the "grand" in "grandiflora".
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