Photo credits: Baltimore Sun/Susan Reimer

My friend Betsy talks about the wisteria on her porch.

About 8 years ago my mom told me that I had to plant wisteria because one can't have a big, old front porch without wisteria. 

 What she didn't tell me, but what I have since learned, is that wisteria is an insidious, aggressive, parasitic, and a remorseless survivor. 

 It seems to grow during the night, stretching its tentacles in every direction until it finds something to latch onto, and when I come out in the morning, these stealthy creatures have wound their way around the porch railing, the potted plants, the porch chairs, the watering can, the dogwood tree, and even the broom leaning in the corner that I use to sweep up the falling cherry blossoms.

 During the growing season, my husband Ron has to climb to the porch roof every couple of weeks to hack the vines off the roof.  They resist his efforts by trying to squirm under the shingles.  But now, for the next couple of weeks, the wisteria is blooming, and the masses of lavender flowers, like clusters of grapes, take my breath away. 

 And when the blooms are gone, the blanket of leaves will shade the porch and create a private and peaceful living room. As Mother's Day approaches, I am again reminded of how my mom is always right!