My dear, Adult Ivy,

Mon chere, I know you’ve been around for simply ages but I’ve only noticed you, passionately, for a few months now. I was mistaken in thinking you were someone else, Purple Wintercreeper, perhaps. Silly moi!

Did you know, Adult Ivy, that when I Googled you (yes, darling! I AM stalking you!) I had to be very careful to have the “safe search” on?  Not because you’re naughty, dear, but because you’re Adult. You’re really just a regular Ivy (Hedera) that has already gotten as tall as it’s going to get, in a sunny and well-drained situation. Then you needed to expand in other directions, if you get my meaning.  As you enlarged, to the lateral, you became more tree-like than vine. I’ve heard the others call you Bush Ivy, but I find that nom de guerre crass… Don’t you?

Sweet Adult Ivy, I know that in other zones, you run around like a gigolo. They call you “invasive” but here you are a rare gem, not a reckless hustler! And when I say “here” I mean in Chicago, not just your place in my heart.

I find your woody form so much more appealing than your clingy, juvenile form. I see the juveniles of your kind around DAY in and DAY out… They bore me. They aren’t like you, Adult Ivy.

And you know what really makes you stand out? What really sets you apart from the others?

Those balls!

I know that technically they are “florets” but when I see them they just look so radically mid-century modern (you know, dear… Like Sputnik!) and they are of such a distinct size that I lose my self-control. I must have you.  And I’m so very glad that your adult form can be lovingly propagated without reverting back to that silly juvenile form so I can procure you very easily, my darling. Because I will not be content to wait…

This summer- we have a date with destiny, my beloved Adult Ivy!

Affectionately, 

            Aster