The last ten days or so, my drive to work has been made unbelievably beautiful by festoons of wisteria everywhere, climbing up trees and through undergrowth. Everything's draped in pale purple (although when I pass my favorite bank of flowers, there is, unfortunately, nowhere safe to stop). There was one particular wisteria arbor that I'd seen pictures of and wanted to find - of course, it's at the Biltmore, and I'm not going back to see it. But in searching for this location, I came across what was, for me, shocking news - this wisteria - wisteria sinensis, Chinese wisteria, to be exact - is an alien species, invasive, unbeloved by many, like kudzu or water hyacinths. It weighs down trees, and so causes them to snap in ice storms; it provides lots of little climbing ropes for black snakes or raccoons to raid the nests of native songbirds. We shouldn't, in other words, like wisteria. OK, I get it. But I've always loved it in its domesticated form, and it's hard for me to relinquish this ...
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