When its first blossoms appeared, Joe's heart melted with joy. He had planted the magnolia as a young man and tended to it with unwavering dedication. Against the dry landscape, the vibrant tree stood out in the barren paddock like a shining beacon of life.
Over ten hard years, Joe had watched his plant grow from a feeble seedling into a healthy thriving specimen. Each morning and evening he would attend to the plant, inspect it, water it, feed it and dispose of pests. In the harsh life of yesteryear, the tree was the recipient of more love than anything else in the town.
Joe knew that he was not the most eligible man in the region. He was but a unassuming carpenter who lived on the outskirts of the village in a humble hut. By day he would work with hunks of timber, hewing yokes for bullocks and ploughs for the field. He had little contact with women and few opportunities to endear himself to the fairer gender, but to his advantage was his innocence of heart and purity of intent.
The target of Joe's unflinching but remote affection was Mariam, a quiet young woman who tended her family's bakery stall in the town square. While Joe held desires for Mariam, these events unfolded centuries ago when customs and traditions were different to our own and society was far more protective and wary for their young women.
Most days Joe would greet Mariam as he purchased his daily bread with the Roman coins that served as currency. He knew that she loved magnolias, and her garments were adorned with needlework symbolising floral blooms, but he would barely exchange a word with her, such was the custom between the sexes.
Mariam lived at the family home and would continue to do so until a suitable suitor was found with a dowry reflective of her status. Her father shielded her from all undesirable approaches and the protocols of the town meant that she experienced very limited exposure to males outside of her immediate family. Mariam was an only child, conceived after lengthy attempts by her parents, and as a result her father was overly protective to the point of being controlling.
At home each night, Joe would picture Mariam as he tended to his tree. He faced his beloved magnolia and imagined her flawless skin, her straight dark hair, the curve of her waist, the heaviness of her breast. He imagined her naked before him, her perfect form reflecting God's will. And then, with manhood in hand, he would explode with emotion, ejaculating burst after burst of semen around the base of the tree.
Water was scarce in the arid landscape and the barren garden behind Joe's cottage was endowed with infertile soil. The greenness of his magnolia stood in contrast to the brown and desolate land in the same way that the goodness of Joe's heart was incongruent to the suspicious and feuding ways of his community.
Through time, life always finds a way and so too the magnolia plant adapted to its unusual nutrition. The tree stripped the chemicals and essential minerals that it needed from Joe's nourishing semen. The liquid provided just enough water and the sperm yielded just enough fertiliser for the tree to flourish.
In the process of adapting to its man-made feed, the bush became as much human as it was plant. In every fibre of its structure, traces of Joe could be found. The DNA from his sperm made its way into the sap, along the branches and permeated the leaves. Joe's own double helix merged with the magnolia's to form a unique hybrid, and the plant was as much dependent on Joe as Joe was emotionally invested in the tree. In fact, the magnolia adapted so perfectly that in the absence of Joe it would wither and die -- it had become dependent on his unique fluids for its very existence.
That Springtime, Joe's tree was blessed with countless flowers and Joe concluded that the time for action had arrived. The fragrant blossoms reminded him that the season was right for love and he determined that he would approach Mariam to profess his feelings.
Joe carefully selected a bunch of perfect flowers from the magnolia, unblemished and on the cusp of unfolding into maturity. He carefully arranged them in an elegant bouquet, tied the stems with a strand of hemp and wrapped a papyrus sheet around the stalks. Nervously he forged a path to Mary's house, rehearsing his speech, and praying for her acceptance.
