I work very hard to be a good vine parent.
I plant them in good soil. I put them in the proper amount of light.
I feed them. I water them. I support them.
I guide their growth.
But I cannot grow for them.
The reason I love vines is their optimism.
They reach up and out and grow with faith.
I envy that.
But sometimes they take a wrong turn.
They grow in the wrong direction. Somewhere the sun can’t find them.
I try to guide them back. But sometimes it can’t be done. They are too high, too far gone.
This creeping fig has grown around and around under this stoneshroom cap.
At first it was cute. I let things progress.
But now it is too late to change its path.
It is clinging to it and will have to be ripped off to get out unless…
I remove the cap and let it cling to this old wrong turn as it reaches up unhindered.
My daughter is a vine.
God bless us both.