Ivy: Does it Strangle Trees?

I am actually now back in Los Angeles, but I still have a lot of catching up to do from when I was in Wales. There the ivy was rampant on the trees, who's characters it completely changed according to the pattern of its growth.

It has often been said that ivy strangles trees, but this seems to be a misconception. Ivy naturally reaches for the sun, needing it to gain sufficient levels of photosynthesis. In this process, if it covers the crown of the canopy it can affect the photosynthesis of its host and it can- by covering the trunk- create a humid environment where fungus or bacterial organisms can flourish. However, the general opinion seems to be that the tree will only suffer seriously from this if it is already declining. On the plus side- apart from the decorative- ivy can support many forms of wildlife, such as providing roosting, hibernating and nesting sanctuary for animals, birds and insects.

The trees I am about to show here are all around Manorbier, where I was staying in Wales, and because of the prevalence of Sycamores there, most of the trees are Sycamores.

As result of the fear of ivy damaging trees, people will often cut its stems near the base of the tree. This will cause the ivy gradually to die, the host being left with a tracery of dead stems, as in the next three images:




I like the fact that you can see the pattern on the bark of this tree where the ivy once grew, while another stem is still alive:


Now for a contrast- a tree trunk smothered in blossoming growth:


And there is something wonderful about an ivy-smothered wood...


this wood reminding me of Lewis Carol's descriptive phrase of a "tulgey wood" in his Jabberwockey:



Whereas this next display seems to be a delightful peace of design:


And on these next two images I love the different textures of ivy, lichen and moss:



This seems to me to be another example of an ivy design project:


Here the bark of the Sycamore is gleaming from Welsh rain, a contrast to the elegant strands of ivy:



And here again it is the juxtaposition of the bark and the ivy that appeals to me:


Now, apart from being decorative, ivy on a tree can be quite spooky, as I find in the following images:






Finally, walking up a lane surrounded by ivy-covered tree trunks, at first I thought this was yet another one- until I raised my eyes and saw it was a telegraph pole!

Welsh Trees...

When I call this post "Welsh Trees" I am not meaning they are trees unique to Wales: I am staying in Wales in Manorbier, a small village on the South-West coast, dog-sitting for my friends, the artist Philip Sutton and his wife Heather , who I have written about previously (Link). They live in an idyllic setting, surrounded by rambling flowers, trees and even a meadow, now in full bloom. As if this is not enough, the sea is only a short walk from the house- a beautiful bay with exciting rock formation.

There are so many visual, brightly coloured stimulation's here - comparable to treasure chests- and my head is full of them. One moment I am swooning over the flower-filled meadow, the next over the colours and patterns of the rocks and the patterns of the waves. I will write about the bay later, but first a return to TREES!

My favourite walk is down to the sea, usually accompanied by Toby the Norfolk Terrier I am caring for. Each time my attention will be caught by a different tree- or sometimes just the same one in a different light. Poor Toby is usually very patient and often will just sit in a resigned fashion while I take countless photos- although one time he was really fed up with me and the moment I lifted up my camera gave an extraordinary, rage-full screech!

One thing I do associate very much with West Wales is dark, green woods of ivy smothered trees so I will start of with some of them:






Apart from these ivy covered one, I have been obsessed by the shapes of some Sycamore trees, both in the garden and down the lane:




(this next tree is actually an Ash)


(whereas this next one IS a Sycamore)


And again and again I photograph this Sycamore branch, as I leave and return to the house: