Magnolia Sunrise

I stand beside hole #10 and see the sun everyday it shines.

Blood once flowed on this rich red Georgia soil where I took root. 
Some men fought and died on this land, other men saw
the beauty it offered with hillsides lined with color and the magnificence of trees. 
     Time past.
     Rains washed the soil.
     Sunrises brought new life.

When I was the size of a door frame our nursery grew by adding plants, trees, bushes of colors, shapes, and sizes not seen before. Some spoke another language and told of giant bodies of water and forests of deep greens.
     Chinese Fir and Juniper
     Tea Olive and Holly
     Redbud and Dogwood

camellia 

Green is my favorite color, along with my sweet silky white bloom. My saplings have now spread throughout our land. Far beyond me, other plants sprout and thrive in the Georgia hillsides.
     Azaleas and Camellias
     Golden Bell and Yellow Jasmine
     Firethorn and Nandina

Too pretty for words to describe.

As new plants arrive, grow, and fill our hillsides I grow even taller and wider and stand as a proud parent who is the protector and storyteller for the future. 
Animals scurry under the bushes, birds nests in our trees, and make music for our leaves.
     Warblers and sparrows
     Rabbits and chipmunks
     Hawks and woodpeckers

One day noise and shaking comes to our lands. Paths were carved up and down the hills, trees moved, saplings planted, seed spread where there's been none. I watched.
     Time past.
     Rains washed the soil.
     Sunrises brought life. 

Amen Corner hole 13, azaleas

Now mankind brought a new life to our lands. Spring was no longer ours to enjoy. Our beauty shared by others who walk by us, some touching us, nodding, and respecting; others who never noticed.
     Carolina Cherry trees, pampas grasses.
     Flowering Peach and crab apples in full bloom.
     Tiny hummingbirds and bees.

Our stately size offers grandeur to those who pass us by. Once again the masses of people have arrived. They dot our landscapes like our nursery once did, in various shades of color, sizes, and shapes. A few are privileged to walk our lush green paths carved in the old nursery. Others, like me watch. 
     Ladies and gentlemen.
     Gardeners and cleaning crews.
     Saplings of white, brown, black and red.

Bryson DeChambeau hole #13 (2018)

Still I stand the protectorate of the lands, all these one hundred and fifty-years. Regal magnolias we are.
     Time passes.
     Rains wash our limbs and soften our soil.
     Sunrise brings new life and graces these old gnarly limbs. 

A year ago this week my husband and I were fortunate enough to check off a Big Bucket List dream, to visit the Master's Golf Championship. We were only there one day and the sun shone through from time to time, but we didn't care. The hillsides are truly lined with splendor given to us by nature and man's hand in arrangement. It is worth the visit, and maybe someday we will return. 

For more information about the golf course click on this site: The Golf Course