Magnolia HH

An Update from My Own Garden – and Some Fascinating Facts

She's no quick star, no spring fireworks, no "hello-here-I-am" tree. Magnolia grandiflora takes time – but she rewards patience with a presence you won't soon forget.

In my garden in Hamburg, she has stood for many years, a variety called M. grandiflora 'Victoria' – robust, reliable, impressive. Over the years she has grown slowly but steadily and has now become a quiet centerpiece of the garden. Evergreen, space-commanding, dignified. A botanical luxury that is there every day, shaping its surroundings.

Location is everything.

A sheltered south-facing position with well-draining soil and plenty of summer warmth is crucial for her to ripen well and survive Hamburg's mild winters without damage. Thanks to climate change? Perhaps. But I think it's more likely thanks to smart variety selection and the right experience in dealing with these special trees. Hamburg has always had a wine-growing climate.

As majestic as her relatives at Lake Como (up to 30 meters), she won't become here, but 15 to 18 meters are quite possible in Germany too, when location and variety harmonize. Her growth behavior is interesting: she grows in phases. Years of apparent standstill alternate with surprising growth spurts – a fascinating interplay of light, warmth, precipitation, and probably also the individual condition of the tree.

Not alone – but as a pair.

A peculiarity that has shown itself for years: fruit formation fails to occur. Although the typical cones appear in late summer, the longed-for ripe, red seeds rarely develop from them. The reason lies in the biology of this special plant: Magnolia grandiflora is hermaphroditic but needs genetic cross-pollination for successful fruit formation.

That's why a second specimen is coming to the garden in September – a different variety, a different gene pool. The hope: more pollination, more fruit, more of that stunning fragrance in autumn. Because when the seeds actually develop, they emit an almost exotic, spicy-sweet scent in the house. Almost like a precious perfume, only more real and intense.

A plant from the age of dinosaurs.

What particularly fascinates me about the Magnolia is her ancient history. She belongs to the oldest flowering plants in the world – her characteristic flower form dates from a time when there were no bees yet. The pollinators were beetles, and exactly those still preferentially crawl through her thick, waxy-fragrant petals today.

This million-year-old pollination strategy makes her robust and gives her an independent charisma. A plant with geological memory that knows exactly how to survive for millions of years.

Hamburg is not Lake Como.

But at least: those who choose the right location and plant the suitable variety can expect amazing results even here in the north. While German gardens are traditionally full of Asian magnolias – M. soulangeana, M. stellata, M. kobus – that deliver a spectacular but brief fireworks display in April and then practically disappear until the next spring, M. grandiflora doesn't do that.

She stays. Leaves, bloom, form – everything remains present. While other trees retreat, she stands there. Constant like an old friend.

Why I like to plant her

Because she stays when everything else goes. Because she still carries her leathery, rubber-tree-like leaves in January, while everything around is bare and gray. Because her flowers appear in June, when all other magnolias are long forgotten. Because her bark shines, her wood is dense, her fragrance unmistakable.

A tree like a warm Mediterranean summer evening – right in northern Germany.