May 302014
 

More than a month after the wisteria blooms have shriveled and petals fallen onto the roadbed, the Chinese wisteria along Piney Woods Church Road is putting all its energy into producing large, fuzzy green seed pods.  Except for in one isolated spot, where a plant that appears to be out of step with all the others has produced a single cluster of blossoms.  As our climate warms, perhaps there will someday be two blooming events for Chinese wisteria in Georgia every year.  This might be a harbinger of things to come.  But for today, I will just appreciate it for its rarity and lovely colors, and try not to let any other thoughts come to mind.

 

Wisteria Again?

Apr 272014
 

My afternoon walk down Piney Woods Church Road was an experience in letting go.  The road has been regraded — it is wider than ever before, and all the potholes and ruts are, for now, absent.  Along the roadside, it seemed as if everyone with a mower was out in force this weekend.  What was yesterday morning a sea of self-heal weeds along the road was, today, just a band of short grass with a couple of self-heal remaining that somehow escaped the blade.  The air was close and the sky gray, but not a gray that betokened the arrival of dramatic weather yet (on Tuesday, though, quite possibly).  I was in the grips of a head cold, my first illness since ten days in a hospital with pneumonia last September.  And there was practically nothing to photograph.

I settled, at last, for this image, conveying well the transience of all things.  A fallen petal of flowering dogwood rests on a Chinese wisteria leaf.  The dogwood and wisteria are both past blooming now.

Fallen Petal

Apr 232014
 

The wisteria blooms are all spent now, save for a few shriveled flower petals that haven’t yet fallen onto the roadway.  Yet, for all its aggressiveness, Chinese wisteria also offers moments of dazzling beauty.  Even after the flowers are gone, the leaves still captivate me, illuminated by late afternoon light.  They glow like the finest stained glass, turning a rural lane into a chapel for contemplating the cosmos.

Illuminated

Apr 192014
 

A long day and night of rain had finally ended, and in the cloud-light of late morning, the Piney Woods Church Road landscape felt saturated with rich colors — mostly shades of green, but occasional patches of bluish-purple where the wisteria blossoms hung.  On my way back down the road — typically a time in which I take few photos, relishing the things I had already encountered — I was drawn to this lone wisteria blossom.  Most of the wisteria flowers bloom in long, dense clusters; this one was a single bloom, by itself.  I felt compelled to photograph it, even though I had already dismissed wisteria as “adequately photographed”.  The result is somehow entrancing, like a suspended dance of color and form….

One

 

Apr 142014
 

For the first few days that Chinese wisteria is in bloom every year along Piney Woods Church, I find myself guiltily enjoying its decadent bluish-purple blooms with their almost intoxicatingly sweet scent.  But as time goes on, and the wisteria keeps blooming and blooming, I notice that it is everywhere I look, draping the trees and shrubs in thick curtains.  The blooms on each flower head seem to crowd each other out, vying for my attention, practically demanding that I notice their vigor and profusion.  And if there are so many flowers, then what about all the seeds?  Wisteria begins to take on a more sinister tone; there is a dark side to its abundant gaiety.  And by the time the last flower petals finally fall in another week or so, I will be ready to see them go.  About a month later, my humble native wisteria vine that I planted in the front yard will produce a scattering of blossoms, and my appreciation for the genus will be born again.

Mass Wisteria

 

Apr 082014
 

Here are two more photographs from today’s late-day ramble down Piney Woods Church Road, in the time of day photographers call the “golden hour” before sunset.  The first is of leaves of Chinese wisteria; the second is a nondescript shrub aglow with light.

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Apr 062014
 

Wisteria Myths

There is no question that the Southeastern United States has been plagued by invasive wisteria.  A walk down a country road in Georgia this time of year will likely lead to encounters with curtains of blue-violet and white blossoms, suspended from vines in the treetops overhead.  But is the invader Japanse wisteria (Wisteria floribunda) or Chinese wisteria (Wisteria sinense)?  At the root of this question lies an explanation for why invasive plants succeed in taking over large areas in the wild, choking out other vegetation and reducing biodiversity to nearly nil.  And the frightening answer is this:  neither, and both.

Scientists roaming the Southeast recently made twenty-five collections of invasive wisteria for genetic analysis.  In their report, available here, twenty-four out of twenty-five of their collections turned out to be hybrids, blends of both Japanese and Chinese species.  As hybrids, the plants are able to be more successful than either species alone would be, because they have the traits of both parent species.  With greater genetic variability, they can tolerate a wider range of ecological conditions, such as degree of shading, soil type, etc.  Hybrids also tend to be more hardy, and more resistant to insect pests and diseases.  These wisteria hybrids are, effectively, “super plants” — more able to spread and more difficult to erradicate.

What, then, to make of a second myth about wisteria, concerning how to tell the Japanese and Chinese varieties apart?  According to several online sources, including an article on controlling wisteria with herbicides located here, the two wisterias actually twine in different directions.  The Chinese wisteria supposedly twines counterclockwise up a tree trunk, while the Japanese wisteria wends its way up a trunk clockwise.  Furthermore, several sources add, the reason for the difference is that vines in the Northern Hemisphere all bend counterclockwise (the same direction water supposedly empties out of a bathtub), while vines in the Southern Hemisphere bend in the opposite direction.  The Japanese species behaves the way it does, according to this explanation, because it evolved in the Southern Hemisphere, before plate tectonic forces brought Japan to its present position in the Northern Hemisphere.

Another scientific study recently debunked this myth, by showing that counterclockwise vine growth is much more common than was previously thought.  In a multi-year survey of vines all around the world (and on both sides of the Equator), abstracted here, ninety-two percent of the vines were found to twine counter-clockwise, and only eight percent grew in the opposite direction.  What is more, vines in the Southern Hemisphere were no more likely to twine clockwise than vines in the Northern Hemisphere.  Alas, too, the geological explanation behind the twining behavior of Japanese Wisteria, while fascinating, is wrong.  Most flowering plants evolved after the dinosaurs went extinct 65 million years ago.  By that time, Japan was north of the Equator, as can be seen here.

Questions on vine twining certainly remain, though.  Why do most vines twine counterclockwise?  Geographical location has been ruled out.  What is left?  One possibility is that plant vine behavior has something to do with the internal structure of plant cells — specifically, with how microtubules, hollow cylinders in each plant cell, are oriented.  But this hypothesis has not yet been tested.  It is amazing, really, that something so commonplace as the question of why vines twine about a tree in the directions that they do has remained so mysterious for so long.

This article was originally published on April 14, 2010.  A new photograph from Piney Woods Church Road accompanies the text. 

Apr 062014
 

The title of today’s image is in homage to the intriguing beauty of the Chinese wisteria, just coming into bloom along Piney Woods Church Road.  For the next week or more, the forest will be draped with purple curtains of blossoms, and the air nearly intoxicating with the wisteria’s sweet scent.  In another post today (from the Examiner archives), I will speak at length of its aggressive, highly invasive habits.  But for a moment, I will pause and appreciate its gift to my daily walk.

Mysteria

Apr 042014
 

Everywhere I glance down Piney Woods Church Road (or, at least, everywhere that is fairly wild and was not recently mowed), I see flower buds and blossoms.  Here are four images from my walk today:  flowering dogwood (Cornus florida), a lovely pale purple violet, and the much loved and hated Chinese wisteria (Wisteria sinensis).  The wisteria is just coming into bloom; soon, much of the roadway will be lined with curtains of pale purple flowers, exuding a heady, almost sickly-sweet scent.  There will be more about Chinese wisteria in future posts.

Flowering Dogwood One

Flowering Dogwood Two

New Violet

Chinese Wisteria