My favourite thing in the garden this season was rather unexpected.
Long, and stretching, and curling, and crawling.
Healthy and green though I’ve not done a single thing to it.
Let’s face it, my kind of plant.
It has grown up along the deck, winding up through the railings and wire details, flourishing and languishing in the sun and shade, roots protected on the north side.
It’s my favourite thing out there.
And I haven’t a clue where it came from.
Oh, ha ha, yes, I know it came from a seed in the ground….
But no one in my household actively planted this.
I was weeding one day (typical of my gardening prowess, I do try to weed once all year) and realised the so-called tangled weed woven against the deck was in fact a healthy grapevine, mysteriously thriving where no one would think to plant such a thing.
And then I get talking to a friend and come to find out that it probably wound up where it is from the yuckiest of circumstances, a random bird dropping a random bombshell as it flew by.
(Hey, neighbourhood birds? Could I put in an order for some heirloom roses and maybe a Gloxinia or two? Appreciate it.)
And so I waver between ‘ewww’ and yay!
If not for the bombshell, I wouldn’t have this unexpected beauty.