The Vine Lesson

All my life I have tried to be a tree.

I wanted to stand on my own.  I wanted to be tall and strong.  I wanted to shelter others.

But I am not a tree.  I am a vine.

I reach out toward enlightenment.

I cling to things that I love.

I grow in all directions, not just up.

I get attached to things.

I am not independent. I am interdependent.

I must embrace my vine-ness.

I cannot be a tree, you see.

Flow

My One Passion

In years past, I had three Passions.  A wild one, a red one and a hybrid.

I killed the red one. I backed over the wild one. The hybrid is the only type left.

Luckily,  I have several plants of this Passiflora ‘Blue Crown’ hybrid.

I finally got brave enough to put one plant in the ground along a fence near the Asparagus.

Here is its first ever bloom.

If this plant does not survive our winters, I have two more in large pots.

It is a vigorous vine that climbs the deck poles

and then is trained to grow on a trellis upstairs.

All are happily blooming in this August heat.

It is such a marvelous bloom.

Flower

My Weed

There is a whole world on one weed in my garden.

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I did not kill this weed because of a hybrid I fell in love with in Tuscany.

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So when I saw it growing on the bank, I staked it up to compare it with the hybrid.

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What a wonderful weed it has been.

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This wild Passion vine/Maypop/Passiflora incarnata has been a whole laboratory.

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There are ants on the pods and stems.

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The best part is all the caterpillars of various sizes.

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Tiny, shiny, spiky, orange and black caterpillars of Fritillary butterflies.

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I check on this plant every day and find something new.

An added bonus is a beautiful, blue morning glory that grew up into the Passion vine.

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My daddy’s favorite color of blue, bluebird blue.

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I have been blessed by this weed.  I am so thankful I did not kill it.

Where would all those lovely caterpillars be?  Nowhere, that’s where.

Follow the weed.