The Beauty of Wisteria: A Wild, Lovely, Romantic, Troubled Perennial Vine

Her husband cut it down while doing yard work. I don't know if he meant to doom this perennial vine, nor do I want know. But after that incident, every time my cousin saw wisteria growing alongside the road or in someone's yard, she'd say "Damn him." Her grandson picked up on it too, and before she knew it he was beating her to it, saying the words before she had the chance to get them out.

I first remember seeing wisteria growing in my grandmother's back yard. Even then, I knew I liked the wild vine, but as I grew older I forgot about it and for many years didn't pay it any attention. Then one April, when I had children of my own, my mother pointed it out. And there it was, these purple clusters, growing rampant on the side of the road everywhere I looked.

And I fell in love with it all over again. There are some of us who adore this wild, tangled vine, so beautiful and romantic, even though we know how destructive it can be, how it can wind around a tree choking it to death, or how it can climb the side of a house and even push the roof off of a building.

But nothing captures the imagination like this perennial plant, whose main stem can grow as big as a tree trunk and springs forth with clusters of fragrant flowers each spring. We who adore it ask no questions, which is why I went to a nursery and bought a wisteria vine of my own a few years ago. It is supported by a strong trellis and is not allowed to venture into the pine-filled acreage next to it.

According to www.gardenguides.com wisteria is a legume and a member of the Fabaceae family. Two species of the wisteria genus are native to the southern U.S. and eight others are native to Asia. It was named for a University of Pennsylvania anatomy professor, Caspar Wistar, around the turn of the 19th century.

As is typical, my wisteria didn't produce flowers for several years after it was planted, but then one April it bore one-just one purple cluster. Now each year it cascades into a lavender showpiece, if only for a little while.

Of course there are some who'd like to eradicate it. A couple of people gave "how to" instructions on getting rid of the vine. Curiously enough, they were all male--was it so beautiful they felt compelled to destroy it?

I once went to Aiken, SC to write a story about its status as an All-America City; it received the award in 1997. My usual traveling companions, my mother and daughters were with me and we decided to drive on down to Augusta, GA to look around. We thought Aiken would be ho-hum and that Augusta would be more exciting, however, it was quite the opposite.

It was spring and Aiken just happened to be in full bloom. I remember driving down a street where live oak trees met overhead giving the effect of driving through a green tunnel. And in certain parts of town, wisteria hung like necklaces from the treetops, amethyst jewels against the greenery. When we got to Augusta it just wasn't that impressive, and we were glad to get another look at Aiken on our way back to York County.

All too soon, the wisteria will be gone, but if I can look out my window any given April and see wisteria I will be happy.