The brief but spectacular life of a Southern Magnolia blossom

I've been waiting a year for the magnolia in my new front yard to blossom, so with three large buds developing on the lower branches, I figured I was in for a magnificent show. Every morning, I took my tea on the porch swing, waiting for the magic to happen. Last night, after a day of shopping, I came home to find one of the buds had opened, turned brown, and withered away, all in one day . . . when I wasn't even looking. Not fair! (Not to mention astonishing) . . . these blooms are enormous, I've admired them on other people's trees for years, and never before had I noticed howly quickly they open and fade away.

So, this morning, determined to catch the blossoms in action, as the second bud looked ready to open, I took up position in the front windows, camera ready, and waited:

Photo #1 taken at 8 a.m.

The first petals (tepals, as they are called) began to peel back around 8 a.m. Notice how they pull back, cup like, from the center, all of them opening at once, as if falling away from the center. What follows is a series of photos taken from one-half to one hour apart, from 8 a.m. to shortly after 1 p.m.


Photo #2 taken at 8:30 a.m. 

In half an hour, most of the tepals have pulled away from the center and the stamens are already beginning to fall away from the cone-like receptacle in the center (which you can't see, yet). The cup-like shape of the tepals catches and holds these stamens for awhile.


Photo #3 taken at 9:20

By 9:20, a honey bee and a few "love bugs" have discovered the flower and are visiting the center. As you can see, a pile of stamens still lies in one of the tepals; these were eventually dispersed by the wind. (The honey bee has probably been busy in the back yard nectaring in the Simpson Stoppers and is already carrying a good-sized load of pollen in the sacs on her legs.) She makes a quick stop to check out the stamen pile, then moves to the center receptacle.

Photo #4 taken at 9:20 a.m.

With all but three of the tepals pulled back, the center receptacle is revealed--a curious combination of numerous spirally arranged stamens at the base of a conelike receptacle bearing numerous spirally arranged carpels.

Photo #5 taken at 9:59 a.m.

By 10:00, most of the loose stamens have fallen off and blown away, revealing a red base to the cone-like structure; the darker yellow "curly" carpels cover the top of the cone. The honeybee has gone about her business elsewhere, but the love bugs still show a lot of interest in the flower.

Photo #6 taken at 10:55 a.m.

By 11:00 a.m., all but two of the tepals have pulled away from the receptacle and all the loose stamens at the bottom are gone. What remains are the curly carpels attached to a red cone-like base. The gorgeous white tepals are beginning to soften, even at this early stage, and darken in color.

Photo #7 taken at noon.

By noon the flower is fully open. The colors have deepened and the structure of the receptacle is evident. Gorgeous, isn't it? The full width of the flower is at least 12" . . . spectacular.

But it begins to fade almost immediately.

Photo #8 taken at 1:10 p.m.

By 1:00 the colors are beginning to fade; yellow and red are turning to brown and the tepals begin to droop.

Photo #9 taken at 7:40 p.m.

By 7:40, as the sun begins to set, the flower has lost its vibrancy and everything is drooping and fading to brown. By morning, there will be no white left in the tepals or the carpals. Apparently, the cone-like receptacle will remain until seeds develop (thanks to the hard work of the bee and the love bugs!)

Now, if someone could explain why that all happens so quickly? I've read that this is a very basic and actually quite primitive flower; did the first flowers have to move along quickly in order to survive? Is this an environmental defense of some sort? Why would the dna want things to be so simple and so fast? If you know, please leave a comment.