A little too much green

Many years ago for my birthday, one of my college friends gave me an ivy plant to brighten up my dorm room. The plant came home with me after graduation, moved with me to Center City Philadelphia, and then to a row home in South Philly. About twelve after that, we moved to Kimberton and I finally set the ivy free, planting it in a bed in a mostly unused area on one side of the house. That was perhaps a mistake.

It was nice to see the ivy take hold and thrive, enjoying the natural, dappled sunlight in its new location where it was free to make new roots, send out new shoots. Over the years the ivy gradually spread to fill that sort of problem area. But even then I didn’t realize what was in store. It took a knock on the door from my next door neighbor several years ago. “Uh, Pam,” Beth said. “Did you know that there’s ivy growing into your air conditioner?”

I didn’t know. I hadn’t been around to this somewhat forgotten side of the house in a while. What I found looked like an alien creature, swarming over the compressor unit and weaving its thin, multi-fingered arms into every opening. I also noticed that vines had swarmed into the basement window well, like little kids who’ve discovered a puddle to splash in. I grabbed my pruning shears and went at it.

We established a sort of truce, the ivy and I. Each year it would clamber over the a/c compressor, fill the window well, and wrap itself around nearby tree trunks, and wander up the side of the chimney. Each year, I’d get out the pruners and rein it back in. Unfortunately, the truce was not an actual victory.

The worst came just this year: I discovered that the ivy had managed to leap across a section of lawn and set up shop under the trees in the hedgerow. After a thirty-year truce, how had that happened? It thought that the ivy was more or less safely contained in that one planting area.

The answer probably lies in the fact that ivy can propagate from even just small pieces of stems. Looking back in my memory, I can see myself on a hurried afternoon (or two or three) grabbing up

clippings of ivy and tossing them under the trees. Normally, I would leave them to fully dry out before disposing of them. Now I’m paying the price of having to wade in under the trees and pull out whatever I find. This is not without some challenges. The ivy has already spread a good bit and it’s in an area where I pull out new poison ivy sprigs each spring. I’ll have to be extra careful. Shouldn’t ivy come with a warning label?

Looking through my books, I found mostly references to the positives of

ivy, e.g., as a ground cover, for winter interest, and for softening a the look of a wall (with a cautionary note to make sure that the wall surface is durable). For instance, the American Horticultural Society’s “Encyclopedia of Garden Plants” simply says, “Ivies (Hedera) are evergreen, climbing, and trailing plants suitable for growing up walls and fences or as a ground cover. Plants take a year or so to establish but thereafter growth is rapid.” It took some diligent Web searching to find references to ivy being invasive.

Still, I enjoy the ivy, and it’s nice to have the color at this time of year. It does make me feel Christmas-y. And it’s interesting to reflect

that using ivy as a decoration at this time of year goes all the way back to ancient Roman practices, part of the celebration of Saturnalia.

Pam Baxter is an avid organic vegetable gardener who lives in Kimberton. Direct e-mail to pamelacbaxter@gmail. com, or send mail to P.O. Box 80, Kimberton, PA 19442. Join the conversation at “Chester County Roots,” a Facebook page for gardeners in the Delaware Valley. Go to Facebook, search for Chester County Roots, and “like” the page. To receive notice of updates, click or hover on “Liked” to set your preferences.