There's a vine at the entrance to my garden that's threatening a takeover.
Yesterday I tried to redirect it up and around the arbor before it strangles any unsuspecting visitors.
It thrives on neglect and can grow about 12 feet per year.
See what I mean? My guard at the gate no longer intimidates anyone.
I didn't know Johnny and the vine were friends. When I saw him resting beneath it,
I assumed he liked the shade, but it's actually a prime spot for hunting lizards.
They crawl out of the rocks, Johnny grabs a snack, then goes right back to his shady spot.
Maximum efficiency, minimum effort.
Johnny's butt is leaning against ground zero. The once-tiny vine stem is now a tree trunk.
I warned Johnny if he didn't move soon, the vine would likely twist around his tail
and he'd never chase another lizard.
He believed me.