Climbing up the brick with the first burst of chartreuse freshness as its spring wardrobe was only the start of this ivy’s show. It ripened from that into a deeper green as the summer progressed, waiting out the heat that brick likes to collect in that season. Here we see it finishing out 2017 with a flourish of fall color. Soon, only its spindly structure will remain, the spidery tentacle-like suction cups that so ruefully deface whatever they touch will hold the skeletal branches up through the winter until, if the winds haven’t been too harsh and the temperatures to cold, it was sprout again, picking up where it left off, rising higher than it ever did before. It will run on and on like these sentences, not bothering to see whether it’s a nuisance or not, whether it will bring ants into the interior or cracks to the exterior. Bounding ever upward, to the sky, not knowing that there is a limit to how far it can go, that there is always a limit.
It’s better not to know.
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