Oh my creeping fig. It was so beautiful. It grew luxuriously and spread across the shingles of my old house like a cool green blanket. It absorbed the powerful rays of the sun that shown down on the hot summer days. Days that were 112 degrees at 10 am. Those rays that heated the redwood skeleton, a hundred years old. Radiating through lathe and plaster and pulsing until sundown when finally the pressure fizzled out with the approaching cool darkness of the night.

“You better get rid of it”, my neighbor counseled me. “My house was covered with it and it destroyed the shingles. We had to have all the shingles replaced and it was so expensive!” I looked across the street at the house directly across from mine, built around the same time. Old photos, taken before the house was burned to the ground by an angry drug dealer, showed a small quaint cottage covered in beautiful dark ivy. It was a fairytale cottage before the fire, but now it sat modernized. The weathered old shingles replaced with new beige siding, windows of vinyl and hollow doors. Perfectly modern and functional. The creeping fig, now a distant memory. The bones of charm were still there; but who knew when or if ever someone would be willing to revive it. I didn’t want the fig to ruin my shingles. I had seen how they secreted a fluid as strong as superglue. Once it attached, the vine could not undo it’s own cement. As a branch of the plant was pulled away;  paint and sometimes wood would come with it. I could just let it be and meld with the house. Allow it to have it’s symbiotic relationship with the old shingles and stucco.

I looked at my house and saw the tree like plant, ascending the stucco of the front porch and spreading around my front door and windows. It lent an old English vibe to my little cottage. The birds loved it too and had made a nest just above the entry of the porch. When we came out the front door, they would quickly jet away until we were gone and the coast was clear. Eventually small lantern shaped pods sprung free from the clusters of small dark leaves. I’d seen these in vintage paintings of foliage and fruit. So this is where they came from!

It was lovely. It cooled the house and the birds loved it. So, I kept it. It grew thick and dark and spread down the sides of the house. The house was cooler and my electric bill was so much lower the year before I trimmed it back to paint the house. Eventually, I had to paint the house and the painter assured me, “I can’t paint beneath those vines.” Only the twisted root jutted from the soil now. It looked like a miniature haunted tree from Grimms fairytales. The root was twisted with gnarled miniature arms which were once the platform the vine that had covered an area at least one thousand times it’s size. A tiny green leaf was starting to emerge from the back . The vine was alive and hadn’t given up. I felt triumphant and hopeful a new vine would soon be complementing the new paint.

Found in the high desert; especially in historic neighborhoods. It’s official name is Ficus Pumila. It’s know for it’s vigorous growth and ability to withstand transient severe weather conditions, such as frost or drought. It can be considered an invasive plant and somewhat parasitic, but like everything else it’s the origin of the perspective. It climbs quickly and sometimes it seems like overnight it will ascend at least one to two inches.

If you find yourself lucky enough to have one, here are some basic tips for care and promotion of the beautiful vine that will quickly cover most surfaces and create a healthy and verdant scene. Water your creeper lightly with fresh water from your garden spigot.  City water is fine-these plants are hardy and will drink gratefully.  Please be careful not to  drown the roots or they will get moldy for sure and possibly rot and perish.  Plant in partial sun, which is enough to stimulate reproduction and keep it steadily climbing and spreading. Those rays of sunshine filtered or coming from an angle will provide enough light to stimulate the photosynthesis process and produce lovely deep green, verdant foliage. Plant your creeper  in sandy soil with moderate nutrients. This hardy plant likes the frontier life and to fight for it’s existence.  It will thrive off a meager diet of nutrients.   Lastly, admire and encourage your climber. Your climber will perform for you and become beautiful. You will receive the gift of wonder and having known you protected a living and beautiful thing that flourished with your care.