Dozen vines for wildlife

In the wild, abundant sunshine and moisture produces a diverse array of plants that jockey for position, competing for resources. Nature thrives in chaos. The jumble of perennials in a meadow provide food and shelter for birds, bees, butterflies, chipmunks and toads.

Vines have an edge. They grow quickly because no energy is spent forming a woody trunk. In the race to expose leaves to sunlight for photosynethesis, they can outmaneuver perennials and overwhelm shrubs. They can climb to the top of trees.

Uncomfortable with the wild ways of nature, people control their vines, using trellises or arbors. My unruly garden has a dozen vines and none of them are trained onto trellises. They scramble or climb or crawl, fulfilling their role in providing food and nesting places for wildlife.

Aristolochia macrophylla

In spring 2005, I planted a Dutchman's pipe vine as food for the pipevine swallowtail caterpillars. This year, black caterpillars with red spines were feeding on the vines. A few weeks later, I saw the large black and blue butterflies gliding about my garden.

With large heart shaped leaves and strange flowers that curl like a pipe, this vine climbs by twining up a trellis or shrub. This summer mine had rooted itself among the Virginia sweetspire. I chopped and uprooted the upstarts to keep it in bounds. Perhaps the carnage was attractive to the pipevine swallowtail, who laid her eggs soon after.

Parthenocissus quinquefolia

Pools of Virginia creeper cover the dry shady areas under the Japanese maple and the red buckeye trees, where nothing else survives the summer drought. It also grows up the brick along the east side of the house. Virginia creeper cements itself to walls and trees by secreting its own adhesive. It is said to produce berries for the birds, but I have never seen them. If grown in partial sun, this vine turns shades of red in autumn.

Smilax smalii

Cardinals nest in the Jackson vine that grows along the front of the house, their orange beaks just visible behind the foliage. Today a chipmunk hid in the vine over the carport, perhaps investigating the three nests hidden there, although all have been abandoned by now.

Jackson vine produces blue berries that ripen in late summer.

Hedera sp

Years ago, my young daughter found this ivy among the discarded stock at a plant nursery. When she brought it to the cash register, the owner charged her 50 cents. A slow grower, this shiny patch of green curls is a hideaway for chipmunks.

Gelsemium sempervirens

Along the highway to the beach in late winter, the yellow blooms of the Carolina jessamine drape the trees beside the culvert. In our garden, this aggressive grower ignores the fence but smothers a white oak sapling planted nearby. In early March, the cheerful yellow flowers welcome visitors to the back garden.

Lonicera sempervirens

Coral honeysuckle climbs the crape myrtle in the back garden. Hummingbirds use the spring flowers for nectar and birds eat the berries.

Passiflora incarnata

Passionvine blooms throughout the month of July with large lacy flowers. It wanders around the flower beds but any unwanted growth is is easy to pull out. I enjoy its ability to hide the foliage of flowers that look tired by midsummer, like daylilies and gladiolas.

Bignonia capreolata

Two crossvines cover the trunk of a dead oak tree in the front garden. They shower the tree with orange blooms each spring and toss off a few flowers throughout the summer. This year, a passionvine climbed the crossvine 80 feet to the top. Today, there are both purple and orange flowers on that old oak.

Other vines in my garden include native and exotic clematis, as well as native wisteria and trumpet vine. These vines scramble over shrubs and have nothing to show at the moment. So no photos with my apologies.

Sand

Leaves in various states of decay had accumulated on the surface. I brushed them away and thrust the shovel into the brown earth between the daylilies. They had bloomed once, in their youth, but they had long since exhausted the nutrients in the soil. Shallowly rooted, they relinquished their lives with little resistance.

Beneath the lilies was sand, gray and dry with a gloss of quartz. The spade sliced easily through the soil. Loose sand slid from the spade back into the hole, where it was shoveled out once again.

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Deep in the sand were objects lost long ago -- four orange bricks, two large chunks of soft stone, and thin pieces of fencing, perfectly preserved. Digging deeper, the shovel struck clay, compressed and compacted, a primordial slab.

The tool slammed into the clay, like steel to bone. A few shards chipped off, but the core did not yield the shadows buried there.

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