A powerfully beautiful Magnolia tree grows and blooms every year just outside the campus building where I spend most of my time. She is gigantic and there is a small hollow in the earth just below her with a stone bench dedicated to someone whose name I constantly forget. But the dedication is unimportant. What matters is that many mornings when I stroll onto campus she mesmerizes me and threatens to detour me from my purpose (sometimes a meeting with one of my students or my 8am measurement class). When I see her with her large, full pink and white flowers swaying in the breeze surrendering their sweet smell to the winds all I want to do is find a flowing white gown, walk into the hollow beneath the tree, and honor the Gods and Tree Wight with melodic song and joyous dance. One day, if I am brave, I will pour a libation to the spirit that dwells there. She is lovely, no matter the season.