Local Landmarks: The Morton Arboretum

It's adventure time!

You may have noticed that this post is filed away under a category called "Let's Frolic". That's because we frolic. A lot. It's good for the soul to be eternally curious, and it's even better to follow your curiosity to new, luminous experiences. 

Meet Adventure-Time Alli. She's takin' selfies with the trees 'cause long hair just don't care.

Today we're going to talk about my recent frolic in The Morton Arboretum. It's truly a magical place. I've been there once in the wintertime, and now once in the Spring. Here's what I learned: trees are always beautiful, always inspirational, BUT---if you want true magic, head to a tree museum just over the cusp of Spring.

Magic.

The Morton Arboretum is a self-proclaimed "1,700 acre living museum". They champion trees. How poetic is that? If you're interested, I'll share a few snaps from this extraordinary place and talk a bit about my experience.

Redbud blooms. First flowers I saw = immediate 20 photos.

Located in Lisle, Illinois, you'd never believe this place existed squeezed between I-88 and suburbia. But, it does. You can hear the cars whizzing past on the expressway if you stand still and listen carefully, but after awhile your ears and eyes are buzzing with the variety of color, texture, and life surrounding you. Like I said before: magic. You get the sense that you've been transported after driving through the Arboretum's gates. 

Big, pillowy Elizabeth Magnolias in bloom. 

I was fortunate to come to the Arboretum as their famed Magnolia trees were in full bloom. Needless to say, I was like a kid in a candy shop. Here's the difference: I never sickened or grew tired of these extraordinary trees. I walked away feeling satiated and deeply, glowingly content. There was more peace under the branches of these Magnolia blooms than I have found in the last three months of busy comings and goings. 

Simple Pleasures Magnolias. Spot on.

The world literally stopped for me. I wanted to photograph these flowers and share the intense joy they radiate. I've never seen so many different trees reaching for the heavens, celebrating their aliveness. It re-kindled wonderful something in me.

I wandered lonely as a cloud...

I suppose the best way to describe it would be this: suddenly I remembered that I have the ability and right to bloom just as much as any of these flowers. It's the Spring following my graduation from college. I've been a "real adult" for almost a year. It's been hard. Harder than I thought. It's easy to let being a writer take a backseat to being an ambitious young adult. But, at the end of the day....

This one is named "Old Fashioned Bridal Wreath". 

give a poet a living museum and she'll show her true colors.

I felt very Wordsworthian right about now.
There was a point where I couldn't turn my head in a direction without these gorgeous golden faces filling my vision.

I think one of the things I love the most about The Morton Arboretum is that each tree, shrub, and collection of flowers has its own identification tag. I ran around taking pictures of each tag so I could call all of these plants by their rightful names. How often do you get to enjoy the rare and delicious experience of knowing all the names for the trees, flowers, and other greenery that provide the background to your life? It's like finally putting your finger on a song that's been stuck in the back of your head. Objects, like people, are given names for a reason. It's a comforting thought. (I think there's a poem in it, too.)

It's important to look up, I think.

Of course, I have my favorites.

Red Baron Magnolias. AKA the tree I'm head over heels in love with.

Maria Crabapple Tree.

Light and airy Saucer Magnolias.

Here's another thing I love about The Morton Arboretum: I always manage to wander off the paths and into the arms of even more beautiful view. Perfect example: we wandered off the path looking for Magnolias, found them, and then turned around and laid eyes on Crabapple Lake (with is rather aptly named, considering the lake is surrounded by a plethora of crabapple trees). Of course, each of these crabapple trees was in full bloom. There's a large hill behind crabapple lake. We climbed it and decided to eat lunch on it. This was my view for over 30 lovely minutes:

Not very crabby. 

This concludes my re-cap of my frolic, and your mental frolic. Wasn't that nice? Perhaps you'll be inspired to visit The Morton Arboretum yourself. Maybe you'll even find me there---it might not surprise you all too much, since you just listened to me wax poetic in what's essentially a long love letter to an incredible place. Haters gonna hate. Bees gonna pollenate and continue to make places like this possible. The world goes on.

Now, go write something.