Clem has been with us for about as long as we’ve lived in this house – since 2002 – when I planted her beside the lamp post like every good soldier of suburbia did at some point. The common purple clematis vine was once used to run up every mailbox post or other similar structure, and could be counted on to provide this gorgeous show of color every June. As such, I didn’t give it much care or concern, and, to my disgrace, I am loathe to admit I didn’t do a damn thing for her for several years.
My attention and time and manure was given to her step-sister, the sweet autumn clematis, which stole the show in August and September, when flowers were really appreciated, not lost in the big June shuffle. The sweet autumn clematis also ran up twenty feet into the air, leaving its clumsy purple cousin in the dust. Yet this year the sweet one gave up its decade-plus-run and decided not to return after winter whereas the common purple variety beside the lam post came back as it did every year. And so, guided by its perseverance, inspired by its longevity and spirit, I took care to tie it as it ran up the lamp post, something I hadn’t done for years. (If you miss tying it up from the beginning, it will sprawl and contort itself into a vine of such odd angles and turns it proves impossible to tie up in any vertical manner.)
I helped it climb about six feet then it started sending out a proliferation of flower buds, which soon exploded into the violet stars you see here. When lit by the summer sun, they are a stunning sight to behold. I will begin a fertilizing regime to keep it going and better prepare it for next year’s show. It may take eighteen years, but eventually I can learn. The reward was this magnificent display, taking our old and ugly lamp post and transforming it into a thing of whimsical loveliness.
