WISTERIA
Just sharing something that makes me smile.
This wisteria is original to the house we live in (which is about 20 years old); it grows over an arbor and comes up from the left to arc over the top. On the opposite side is clematis — which has decided it’s not yet ready to bloom this year; I presume it is protesting the cold — and normally the two climbers overlap each other. This year, without its twining counterpart to keep it in check, the wisteria has overhung the left and, additionally, is crawling down the fence line toward the road.
Those of you who were around when my husband got his gonorrhea might remember this fence. The gunnera remains; it is a prehistoric-looking giant leafy thing by mid-summer each year, but at the moment it too — like the clematis — is stubbily refusing to show its finery.
(And what is WITH the plant names that sound like tropical diseases, anyway? Clematis, gunnera… I also have crocus, phlox… *laugh*)
A n y w a y
The bloom cycle on wisteria is incredibly short, at least in my clime.(It is pretty hardy though, and if you “train it” you can get it to bloom a second time during the summer. You can check out info here if you’re into that kind of thing.) As you can see, the purple snow of fallen petals is already littering the ground, even as the top buds on each cluster are barely opening.
But to me, this is a beautiful thing.
The growing, the climbing. The budding up and falling down.
And next spring, the resumed short-life growth and sprawl.
Sometimes it is important to remember that beauty is not temporary; it is cyclical.
And sometimes it is just delightful to temporarily behold a beautiful thing.
.
What delightful beauties are you beholding today?
I’d love to hear what is lovely in your world.
Wisteria is one of life’s joys. In my old house I trained one over an arbor and then after my divorce trained another here. It took several years to get to where it is now. I recently posted a shot from under it a while back this spring. The smell is wonderful when sitting under it, but some folks are put off by the number of bumblebees that hover about the blossoms. (Not sure why only bumblebees seem to like it? I’ve never seen a honeybee on it, and yet the bumblebees gather in intimidating number. (My old arbor would hum loud enough to hear from yards away.)
Have you seen Tiffany’s “View of Oyster Bay”? Another of life’s joys.
I had to look up the piece you inquired about — what gorgeous glass!
We don’t get much in the way of humble bees, but a wren has made its nest in the top arch and if you have the nerve to walk past the arbor too close — heaven forbid one should retrieve the recycling bins from the end of the driveway! — it will buzz bomb you for getting too near its chickies.
I have another tree that the bees love — honey, not humble — and that a couple of hummingbirds fight over. (Very territorial creatures, hummingbirds. And basically, nectar is their crack. So when the little hopheads fight it’s rather like observing a drunken brawl between two Napoleans.)
I believe Tiffany did a series of that view, but one great example is in the American Wing of the Metropolitan Museum in NYC. As a glass person, I’ve always been jealous of that window.
Hummingbirds here are, like you said, usually limited to a pair per yard. Ours are visible when the trumpet vine (which is intermingled with part of the wisteria) blooms. We put a feeder out and they hit it a little, but seem to prefer the real thing, which in my garden is certainly available.
Buzz-bombing birds are kind of where I draw the between bird-watcher and a homeowner territorial in his own right. Our arbor is over a deck with a table and fire-pit. If a bird tried to swoop at me and keep me from enjoying my own yard, it had better be laying golden eggs. LOL or it’s going to know what a badminton shuttlecock feels like! 😉
OH names of flowers. We have a delicate flower commonly known as blue pea, the petals of which can be used for dye in a lot of foods/ desserts, and the Peranakans (that’s us lot) are notorious for “staining” our treats with this blue/purple dye.
It’s also called butterfly pea. But its actual name is Clitoria ternatea. Cos it looks like female genitalia. I kid you not.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clitoria_ternatea
I mean, hello? I bet a guy named it. Tsk.
Oh my…
It really is beautiful!
~ Marie xox
It’s one of my favorite spring blooms. 🙂
They don’t grow up here—though with the changing climate, maybe that will change …
I don’t think they are going to grow where there is an excess of snow, considering that their native climes are milder. But I don’t know. Maybe?