Back when I wrote “taller than a tree,” the post which introduced the lovely and ancient Magnolia grandiflora and chronicled my personal relationship to one very special Magnolia tree, I was a little disappointed not to find any pictures of fully developed blossoms and seed pod formation in my photo archives.  Instead, I made a promise to myself that I’d attempt to locate and photograph and then share these beautiful flowers and the resulting seedpods at all stages of their development this summer.

One of my favorite details of the massive, heavenly-scented blooms of the Southern Magnolia is the “matchsticks” that form and fall off into the still-cupped tepals* just as the seeds are forming.

These matchsticks are actually the stamens, which have done their job at this point.  Since I engage in a lot of stamen love around here, y’all might notice that these are pretty tough, as stamens go.  But then, this was a necessary adaptation for a tree which evolved in a time before bees.  Each of these thick stamens was designed to withstand the attentions of the only pollinators yet in the game back then:  beetles.

Aren’t they charming, spilling out into the tepals*?

Matchsticks are the perfect image for today’s post, I thought, because a year ago yesterday I lit and smoked my last cigarette.

Yes, this is my one-year anniversary of being a non-addict.  It feels pretty great to even type that sentence — and even better to breathe deeply through my much cleaner lungs now.

Quitting smoking is really tough, and my heart goes out to all those struggling to overcome any addiction right now.  People who have never been addicted to anything really can’t “get” what it’s like, I’ve discovered.  My still-smoking friends were hardly a safe source of support in those first few weeks and months,** and my friends who’d never been addicted at all had limited capacity for understanding and empathy.

Part of the reason I ended up starting a blog (okay, two blogs) in mid-August was the feeling that I was going to lose my mind in the first few weeks without nicotine.  The gum made my throat so sore I was in danger of losing my voice, and the patches hurt my skin, so it ended up being a cold-turkey event for me.

If you’re interested in vintage Meredith posts about my journey getting the tobacco monkey off my back, you may click this link which will take you to a list of posts in the Overcoming Addiction category on my first blog.  There are only seven posts in total.  Mostly, I didn’t feel like talking about it much as it was happening.

And now that it’s finished, do I feel like talking about it?

Magnolia grandiflora immature seedpod.

Hmmm… not much.

Do I think it was worth it, a year down the road?  Definitely.  If I had to start the process all over again today, I’d do it, without hesitation.

Being free is precious.

Namasté, y’all.

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*What are tepals, you ask?  This post answers that question.

** Yes, I fell off the wagon during a girls’ weekend in the mountains in November, four months into the journey.  The temptation is still palpable even months later, even if your friends are super careful and don’t mean any harm by it and you’re sure you’re tough enough to withstand anything by then.  And it has definitely been a challenge to me that F., after 7 weeks of our quitting journey, began to smoke again.  But turn about is fair play:  when we first met, he’d been tobacco-free for eight months, and unfortunately his new smoker girlfriend dragged him off the wagon quicker than you can say “kiss an ashtray.”

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I am in awe of the response to the last post.  Thank you to everyone who has read and commented and e-mailed.  I am going to respond to you all as soon as I can.

So much wisdom and depth, kindness and wonder and peace out there, and much of it thanks to traversing those dark nights of the soul.  I feel a little bit like I’m holding hands with all of you, in a circle, as I hear your stories.  Over and over, what I’m hearing is lives that are pure Beauty, as transcendent and moving as any scene in Nature.

And I’d like to give back a little bit of Beauty today.

Back in the winter, I published a series of macro photos called “stamen love,” just when I thought it was the last chance for the hellebores and camellias to show off their stuff.  (I was totally wrong about the hellebores, who were still braving the heat and churning out flowers in late April.)  Since then, I’ve noticed that, hey, I just like to photograph stamens.  It wasn’t a case of being drawn to these in winter simply because there wasn’t much to photograph in the garden, as I’d assumed.

Stamens are eerily beautiful to me, whether rising triumphantly, stuffed with golden pollen, or fading to sepia and curling in upon themselves.  I’m sure Freud would have had a field day with that, because these are, after all, the male parts of the flower.   But whatever the reason for my attraction, it’s resulted in an accumulation of lovely stamen shots, just perfect to share with you today.

I hope you enjoy them.

Oh, and don’t forget you can click on any picture to enlarge it.

Without further ado:

Beautyberry stamens. Photo taken at SC Botanical Garden.

Mimosa stamens. Photo taken at Lake Keowee.

Single-flowered rose 'Knockout," with fading stamens and dew. Photo taken in a neighbor's yard. (Thanks, neighbor!)

Lacecap hydrangea in bloom. Photo taken in a suburban backyard.

Detail of lacecap hydrangea stamens, plus textures from Kim at kimklassencafe.com.

Daylily stamens. Photo taken at the SC Botanical Garden.

Wild rose stamens. Photo taken one spring morning just before dawn, at the edge of the woods, only a few feet from where I sit and write to you now.

Stamen impression, crepe myrtle stamens blowing in the wind. Photo taken in a Chinese restaurant parking lot.

Namasté, y’all.

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“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”

~Leonardo DaVinci

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