June 21 2009
Let’s Do the Twist,
Like We Did Last Summer: the case of the wandering vine

I suppose every plant person has a type or category of plant that they have a real affinity for, maybe even a type of plant that got them interested in horticulture in general. Back about a thousand years ago (it seems) when I was a kid in a rural agricultural area, I remember the first time I came across a Campsis radicans, otherwise known as the Red Trumpet Creeper (although you now occasionally see a yellow version) and which the old country folks called the cow itch vine…apparently it causes some reddening of the skin, although I’ve never experienced it. (And as these things go, I have found another plant totally unrelated to the trumpet creeper which is also called the cow itch vine, Cissus trifoliate, in the grape family ) I can still remember gawking at those huge red tubes, thinking it was so beautiful yet alien looking (and at that time I don’t ever remember seeing it in cultivation but always beside the road or on the edge of the woods. Now of course it is fairly ubiquitous and with several cultivars (‘Madam Galen’ for one, and the flava version).

Maybe the trumpet creeper is what got me hooked on vines. The very things that I find compelling about the vine are often times (as these things go) problematic for others: a vine will generally not remain neat and tidy but, depending on the vine, want to roam, ramble, cascade, attach itself wantonly by little sticky pads or twirling tendrils or just managing to weave itself through other plants; from a small start at the beginning of the season, it can seem to take over, and of course they can seem to require almost constant care and a watchful eye. Wisteria for example requires several prunings a year at least if you want to keep it under control or shaped to a trellis (by the way: I noticed recently that many now consider Wisteria to be an invasive, almost to the extent of Kudzu; I do notice many more stands of wisteria alongside the road than just twenty or so years ago….makes me wonder if the average temperature is rising to so encourage it.) And then there are the ‘polite’ vines like Clematis, very many of which require a drastic pruning at end of season and don’t really travel very far even when they are in full tilt boogie. There are a few Clematis which are more headstrong such as the beautiful Clematis montana var. reubens . I grew this one on the same arbor with a white and blue wisteria --- quite an overpowering result (some would say I’m just a glutton for punishment). Sweet Autumn Clematis is another forceful, some would say rampant, Clematis.

And certainly all the big flowered cultivars which have been apparently bred for the mail box at the front of the drive way are ok also. Truth to tell, a whole post could be done on Clematis types alone, there are so many of them.

My favorite small vines would probably not be Clematis however. One of my favorite vines, which is more of an annual here ( tender perennial, just pot it up and take it in) but flowers the first year from seed is Rhodochiton atrosaguineum or the Purple Bell Vine, grows about ten feet with a spectacular flower.

Another favorite is Mina lobata, also known as Spanish Flag, with red-orange flowers fading to yellow and then white. The whole effect is quite beautiful but since its not a perennial, all you have to do is clean up at the end of the season (and save the seeds and send them to us ;-) and proceed on.

There is also the Cross vine (Bignonia capreolata – all the Bignonias seem to have that very pronounced bell flower) which is native and with very a florivorous blooming cycle, flowers so thinck you can hardly see the stems. Occasionally I have seen it in the woods, scrambling to get into the light and its always a pleasure to try to track it down to where it started from…and since it can grow to 50 feet that can be quite an adventure. Its odd perfume has always smelled like walnuts to me, but not unpleasant at all.

Gosh, when I think about it, vines seem to be the most bang for the buck flower-wise (if flowers are what you’re after; many folks like leave patterns/texture just as much). And when you think about it many of our food plants are very prolific viners: beans, peas, squash, pumpkins, gourds, watermelon, cucumber, melons of all types all of which I love but also Malabar spinach, which is not really spinach and which you seldom see. I grew and ate the leaves of this one year and it really is a beautiful tasty plant--and with red stems to boot!

In my previous house (the infamous Casa de Vin) I reckon I grew, between the mailbox and the back wall (a standard quarter acre city lot) around 40 vines at various times, including several types of Passion flower (passiflora, another huge family of vines); several types of Aristolochia, commonly called Dutchman’s Pipe; Honeysuckle and Morning glory certainly, along with the Cardinal climber and the Cypress vine, both often confused for one another; and some of my favorites which required more care such as the incredible Solandra maxima, known as Cup of Gold, with six inch long flowers smelling of coconuts (this one is very easy to propagate an keep over from year to year…well worth it!)

And there is always a plant or two I’m forever lusting to grow, given the right living circumstances …and yes, they are exotics; if there wasn’t a challenge, it wouldn’t be worth it. As any gardener can tell you and as I repeat endlessly under these circumstances, if you haven’t killed it three times you haven’t tried to grow it. I have a whole list of these plants to attempt but as regards vines, I keep mulling over the Jade vine (ahhhh, Stronglydon macrobotrys) with its surreal racemes of turquoise flowers (beautiful photo here ). There is also a very similar red flower form called Macuna benedetti which I have actually managed to kill as a small seedling once already … and yes it does look like a vining version of an Erythrina. Oh be still my vining ruddy heart!

Speaking of that previous house, Casa de Harold, after it was built I worked to transform it into Our Blessed Image of the Vine using the ferro-cement technique. I no longer have the house but here you can see a few features, now sadly removed by the current owner: the stairway and wall going up to kitchen area, the front door with some concrete vines sticking out from the door and the bones of a resting climbing Hydrangea petiolaris , a picture of the inside landing looking toward the front door – coming from the ceiling, the vines look sorta like a shot from ALIEN maybe. Kurt Schwitters could have been done proud if I had stayed I suppose. Do you think he would have liked tentacles/vines?...could call it Schmertzbau maybe.

I built the second lower studio (the first one has collapsed but here you can see some concrete vines roaming out of the top) at Camp Freedonia from an area where two large trees had fallen, and crossed each other in an X (which we moderns know always marks the unknown). I saw a mystical mist arising from the X-marks-the-spot place every morning as I visited the bathroom. Fighting my way through the dense privet I found a large round cleared area with grape vines (small berries of the sort called Fox grapes). The resulting studio overhang/porch is a homage to the vines there, to its genius loci as the architects might say. The front approach to the lower studio is heralded by two ‘triffids’ or vining herms.