It started its life with me, planted to grow up a trellised arch. It was so young and looked so fragile. How wrong was I? From knee-high to a grasshopper – much like Topsy in Uncle Tom’s Cabin – it “just grow’d”.
And boy, did it grow. In its first year, it grew (grow’d) to twice my height, that Clematis Montana. I should have guessed; its nickname is the “Mile-a-Minute Climber”.
It’s at least thirty years old now. Old enough to know better. Old enough to stop harassing the trees and shrubs that put up with being its’ neighbour. Not a bad place to live, our south facing part of the garden.
With no respect or regard for others, it had crept over the arch and started making its way along the fence before it was even three years old. In full flower, it’s quite the sight. Pastel pink blooms bust forth in beautiful profusion in spring-time – and return for a second round of applause in late summer. And all the while it’s growing, it throws long strings of tendrils out to whatever it can grab onto. Until it’s time to sleep.
During winter, I breathe a sigh of relief when it ceases to cast its fronds. When it becomes too tired and lack-lustre to make an effort. Halleluja!
Then, back it comes with a vengeance every March or April, leafing, budding and growing wilder, chucking its strands hither and thither to get a grip on its prey. There’s nothing to suggest that a clematis can choke whatever it catches onto. But I’m wary – very wary – when that Clematis Montana strikes out, creeping and crawling up my lovely Lilac Tree. It’s a gnarled old gorgeous thing with splendid deep-green heart-shaped leaves and its scented purple blossoms. I love it dearly.
It’s unfortunate that it lives not far away from where its nemesis slithers and sidles up to the trunk, waving in its stealthy, wafting way.
‘Is it trying for a strangle-hold? It’d better not. Get away. You’re a mile-a-minute little pest!’
In those moments, I want to grab a sickle, do my own wafting – and slash that good-for nothing, creepy climber to pieces. Murderous intent over, I leave them to fight their own battles. They always come out unscathed. Well, they have – up to now.
And I’m crazy in love with them both!

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