The folksong that said

“Tell me why the ivy twines” was written by someone who knew ivy well. English ivy is a plant well adapted to the understory of the Northwest, where it competes with native understory plants like salal, nootka rose. It gains advantage over them primarily by grasping the trunks of large trees, scaling them and thus reaching greater cover and more light, which again provides their pervasive roots with sufficient stored energy to dominate an understory usually populated by slower growing natives. Given time and the absence of such a vigorous competitor the natives can establish and blanket an understory, albeit less rapidly than ivy. In fact, in such cases ivy really cannot get established because it cannot grow in the really dim light under an understory species such as salal. This is my theory, because the natives in adapting to this environment did not have to contend with the likes of ivy.

So, armed with that knowledge I am a promoter of ivy pull out sessions – big job for little immediate reward. But there are so many benefits. There is aggression reduction; the feeling of absolute power obtained from ripping living things, the vermin of the vegetable kingdom out at the roots. And if you wish they can be hated politicos, venal neighbors, or whatever is wrong in your life. They do this free of charge and seemingly endlessly. And they may well be growing back while you sleep, providing you with yet more therapeutic opportunity. Then there is social contact. People love company and on a sunny day, with light filtering through the perennial mist of the Northwest woods, human spirit rises to clatching. In between pulling bouts or even, like quilting, in the midst of it, you can explore new territory in your understanding of human nature, orient to neighborhood activities, cement family values and, above all, reify your attendance at this event as taking a stand for nature.

I don’t mean to give short shrift to the benefits of being outdoors and being physically active. I found myself stripping down on a day when I had been bone chilling cold. I like to sing while I pull ivy, such olde favorites as ‘the holly and the ivy’ or, as alluded to above, ‘Tell me why’. Ivy has insinuated itself into the folk tradition and only recently has been seen as a bad actor. While we pull ivy in periodicals of the garden sales world ivy is still advertised as a wonderful ground cover (which it is). There is little more lovely than ivy cascading over a bower or climbing up a brick wall on a hallowed church or tudor university building, blazing red in its fall splendor. The bible says, as ye reap so shall ye sow. Ivy is the perfect foil to this adage. Ivy reflects the contradictions in our lives.