Here in Sydney, the Wistaria is out. Many of the older homes have displays of this adventurous climber, and now and then one sees it growing on a support in the garden of a modern home.
It’s such a pretty flower, but it really comes into its own as a perfumed plant. Unmistakeable!
Here in Sydney, Australia, we are in the midst of Springtime glories.
Judging by perfume, colour and form, one of its top contenders in the stakes of delight must surely be Wistaria.
Though its glory is as short-lived as it is spectacular, its presence is surely one of nature’s special treats.
Not so popular in modern gardens due to its very vigorous growth, it’s still to be found in abundance in some of the older yards, and sometimes it’s seen twining along a front fences: even trained as a standard on a trunk-like support.
The illustrated display is growing in our back garden.
Here in Australia, it’s Spring: the season for lovers, poets, blossoms and , unfortunately, hay-fever.
Let’s focus on something special: the vine, Wistaria.
Here in Sydney, Wistaria seems more at home in old gardens. There’s something so charming about its glorious, pendulous flowers: something that seems to me to be more a-tune with yesteryear.
It’s in our yard: climbing up the tallest trees, seeking to show off its delightfully perfumed glory. Ours is a common variety: a procession of pale purple-lilac shades. In full bloom, however, its beauty is anything but common.
But it’s certainly not for those who are shy of secateurs. Those vigorous tendrils can easily get out of hand! In some places, it’s even considered an invasive weed. Nevertheless, for those who can grow it, and despite its short flowering season, isn’t it well worth the effort?
Spring is really here, and I cannot resist strolling around the streets, looking at the gardens.
Amongst the most beautiful colours are the lilac shades of wisteria. Moments ago, I passed an old-fashioned house, resplendent with all the favourite blooms of yesteryear, but dominated by one: wistaria.
As if its heady perfume was not enough, interspersed amongst its tendrils were clusters of fragrant jasmine: announcing Spring so vividly that I defy anyone with a sense of time, place and charm to ignore it.
In the lawn, old-world freesias bloomed, strewn around as if by nature.
Ah, Spring: the season of the senses!