Down With the Vines

In the hot, humid, "dog days" of summer, my morning routine has changed.  I've been going out for a short, but relatively fast run, and stopping at the parking area by the creek for some yoga to stretch out before coming back up the hill out of the park.  Sweating while practicing yoga in a studio doesn't appeal to me, but it's different outside under the morning sky, with a little bit of breeze.  There, it feels very natural - just how the human body works on a hot day.

Porcelainberry is rampant in the park, a non-native, invasive species.  The National Park Service describes it thusly:

"Porcelainberry is a vigorous invader of open and wooded habitats where it shades out native shrubs and young trees. As it spreads, it climbs over and blankets existing plants and weakens and kills them by blocking sunlight."

Whatever diseases or predators keep it in check in it's native habitat do not exist here.  This time of year it grows rapidly, often overgrowing small shrubs and trees, turning them into mounds of porcelainberry leaves until the underlying plant dies.

My morning runs are also scouting expeditions for porcelainberry problems, and several mornings I've headed back out, after eating and getting dressed in my woods clothes, to liberate some plants from their smothering green blanket.  I enjoy being out with the curious catbirds, the cardinals, robins, crows, moths and butterflies, and the singing cicadas out of sight high in the trees.

This morning I went to tackle a particularly bad area about a half mile upstream, and near the path.  The vines covered the ground in a broad area, all the smaller shrubs, and one larger tree.   I set to work pulling down the vines.  Little by little, the underlying plants emerged.  Most still had leaves, and I think they'll be fine, so long as the vines are kept off them.  Several people called out as they walked by, most saying "thank you."  It's very satisfying - wading into the mess and making it better.

Pollinators

It's the middle of summer, hot and humid. The Rose of Sharon bushes in the neighbor's yard are blooming, pink, purple and white.  These are large plants - probably 15 feet tall or more, and they are covered with blooms - some open, and some tightly furled.

One of my great pleasures is stopping to watch the bees working the flowers.  Bumblebees seem to predominate, but there are many types of smaller bees, wasps, and butterflies as well.  The bumblebees are my favorites - wings humming - flying from blossom to blossom with legs and bodies coated with pollen.  They land in a flower, look for pollen to collect, and then their wings move in a blur and they lift off to fly to the next blossom.  Busy with their life, performing their role of service to the plants even as they gather the food they need, they pay no attention to me.

Pollinators - just one example of the complex relationships among the different forms that life takes, that are essential to its continuation.  The flower is beautiful, the bee a marvelous creature - but one cannot exist without the other.  They depend on each other, as we depend on myriad forms of life for the air we breathe and the food we eat, and even the ability to digest our food.  It is a huge mistake to think of ourselves as separate from the rest of life - to not acknowledge and nurture our relationship with the rest of nature.