The curse of ivy: We all need to play a part to end its spread

Late winter and early spring are good times to observe the spread and growth of ivy in Island forests, groves and yards. Now, before the deciduous trees and shrubs put out new leaves, the ivy-shrouded tree trunks are plain to see. In some areas, ivy has taken over completely, wrapping every tree and carpeting the ground. In other areas, you will notice ivy climbing up a few trees and spreading along the ground in an area where, only a few years ago, there was none.

Late winter and early spring are good times to observe the spread and growth of ivy in Island forests, groves and yards. Now, before the deciduous trees and shrubs put out new leaves, the ivy-shrouded tree trunks are plain to see. In some areas, ivy has taken over completely, wrapping every tree and carpeting the ground. In other areas, you will notice ivy climbing up a few trees and spreading along the ground in an area where, only a few years ago, there was none.

In my neighborhood, apart from an infestation at the intersection of Thorsen Road and Westside Highway, there is very little ivy. Yet during the last couple of years, while walking along Thorsen, I have noticed and pulled a couple dozen ivy starts — a single strand of ivy winding up a tree trunk and a single vine/root creeping along the ground. These are easy to eradicate, if you are careful in pulling up the root, like reeling in a fish, in order to get every root and leaf. If ig-nored, each of these individual starts will become an infestation; these spreading infestations will eventually join, snuffing out native ground cover and shrubs and, eventually, even the trees.

How do these little starts get there? In bird droppings. It seems that whenever ivy goes “vertical,” that is, when it climbs up a tree or even up and along a fence, it begins to produce berries. The birds eat these berries, fly off and perch in a distant tree, leave a dropping at the base of that tree, and thus plant a new ivy start.  In this way does ivy spread across a landscape far faster and further than its roots can creep.

Ivy is green death. The sooner we begin to fight it, the better our chances of successfully eradicating it.

Do you think I exaggerate? Then go look at the hillside above Interstate 5 below Beacon Hill or the east side of West Seattle/Burien, where it slopes down to 509, or, worse yet, look at the west side of Queen Anne Hill above Elliott Avenue. That is what much of Vashon Island will look like in a few years if we do nothing to prevent it. Already, many areas of the Island are overrun: the north end, Burton Peninsula, Magnolia Beach, Lisabuela, Wingehaven. And serious infestations are too many to list.

The shady, towering forests of the Pacific Northwest have no defense against ivy, because ivy is shade tolerant. That is, it flourishes in full sun or in full shade. So, unlike blackberries or Scotch broom, ivy will not die when shaded by the growing trees.

We humans introduced this damned invasive to the Island, and we humans will have to eradicate it. And by “we” I do not mean some state or county agency, nor the land trust nor the Forest Stewards — though I am grateful for whatever such agencies and organizations can do to help with this problem.

By “we” I mean you and me. I mean every able-bodied person in each neighborhood or area of the Island. And I mean individuals — like myself — whose property, at present, has no ivy. We must help each other; we must help our neighbors.  If ivy is on your neighbor’s property, you will not be able to prevent its spread to yours. We must begin to see the eradication of ivy as one of the responsibilities of property ownership.

Good work is being done to attack some of the worst infestations. A couple years ago, the land trust organized a series of work parties to cut ivy in Lisabuela Park. Next week, a workshop on how to attack ivy will take place at Wingehaven.

On your own property, start by cutting the vines that climb up the trees. This will help to reduce the production of ivy berries. Then work at the roots. But don’t work too hard, or you won’t stay at it. This will be a long fight, and we must not give up or give in.

Take on just one small piece of work at a time. And consider taking your favorite beverage, along with your gloves and loppers. While cutting roots or vines, take frequent pauses to sip your drink and look around. Observe and listen. Notice how good it feels to take this small action against a local problem. You may begin to be more hopeful, even about the many great and distant problems about which you often feel so helpless. You may even return to the house in a better frame of mind toward those who share that shelter with you.

In any case, when out walking, make it your practice, as I have made it mine, to never pass an ivy without damaging it.

 

— Jack Stewart is a longtime Islander and conservationist.