Sharon's blog: A Wisteria Story

I have the kind of wisteria that doesn't invade, doesn't drive me crazy and doesn't seem to need a bit of care. American wisteria some call it, but I've also heard it called Kentucky wisteria. 

About 30 years ago a friend took me roaming around on some acreage her family had owned for years. There had been a house on it at one time, but as often happens, years passed and people passed and the house was no longer. But the plants, oh wow the plants. Daffodils, tulip foliage, evidence of daylilies on their way, roses rambling over an old broken fence. It was gorgeous.  There was wisteria growing up a tree, not much of the tree was left, only the trunk, but it looked so much like the whole thing was a wisteria tree in full bloom.

Now I love my trees, and there wasn't a one of them I would have killed just so a wisteria could grow up the trunk of it, but I figured I could build myself a wisteria tree one way or another.

I nabbed two long skinny strands of new growth that was close to the base of that dead tree, brought them home with me and attached one of them to the clothesline pole that was in the back yard. I didn't use that clothesline anyway, though I wish now I still had it. I really didn't think that long skinny strand of wisteria would grow.

Back yard . . .	. . . different years

In the front yard I had nothing to stake the second wisteria strand to, so I grabbed an old worn out broom and sawed off the handle. It would have to do.

And so they grew. And grew. And grew some more. As they grew new strands, I just wrapped them around the first strand I'd planted, including the broom handle or the pole as I wrapped. I wove the end into other branches. And so they grew and grew and grew, weaving themselves a trunk.

Eventually the broomstick rotted away but by then the front yard wisteria was pretty well shaped and held itself upright. Until the ice storm of 2009 landed on it and knocked it to its knees. I cried. It probably cried too, but I propped it up with rocks and bricks around its base and that spring I wove and wove new branches around its bottom. It still doesn't have good form, but it doesn't know the difference and just keeps right on brightening up this entire neighborhood every April.

Front yard . . .	. . . different years

Now I know this is only March 22, and I know it's about 3 or 4 weeks early this year, but if it wants to bloom in March, then so be it. It is a beautiful spot in my landscape.

The one in the back yard, the one growing around the clothesline pole, is picture perfect. It is an amazing sight right now. And for some reason, different soil I would guess, the one in back is lavender blue while the one in front is more of a lilac color.

Back yard	Another view

Both are beautiful 'wisteria trees' and they've housed robins and wrens and a few cardinals over the years. One time I was in a local nursery and the man in the checkout line in front of me asked the clerk if they sold any 'wisteria trees'. The clerk explained that she had never heard of a wisteria tree but that they did have some wisteria vine. The man told the clerk she was wrong, that he knew of a house not far from his and there were two wisteria trees growing there, one in the front yard and one in back. The clerk told him that if those two wisteria trees were in his neighborhood, maybe he should visit the house where they were and ask the owner where he got them. The man growled a little and walked away empty handed.

I didn't say anything because I didn't know the man and I don't do well with growling men anyway.

That same evening I was out working in my hosta bed in front. A truck pulled into my driveway and the growling man stepped out. He was still growling, but he left with two little rooted strands of wisteria and my best wishes. I told him he'd have to find his own broomstick or clothesline pole.

I never saw him again, and I never saw any wisteria trees anywhere else in my neighborhood, so I don't know what happened. Maybe the wisteria didn't like growling men either.

~*~

Edited to add more photos taken today. It's drizzling rain and the sky is dark. I think that has drained the color from my camera. The image tones don't match the true color.  The smallest tree on the trellis is only about 5 years old. It's come a long way in 5 years.

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