As a child, as soon as the weather warmed we spent most of our waking hours outside. We walked everywhere barefoot and carefree. A long dusty road wound through thick woods to Grandma’s. As we walked to her house to play, we passed myriads of cascading purple flowers.
When I asked what they were, my sister call it Mysteria.(She used to tell me all kinds of things, and I usually believed her.) It made sense really, for the beautiful flowers hung heavily on the limbs, giving them a droopy, mossy look. I pictured it climbing the walls of some old stone mansion, digging into the rock and shrouding the old place with mystery and secrets.
Today I know the real name, and I still think the plant looks mysterious. I have often tried to capture the lovely blooms with my camera. The photographs never give full justice to the magnificent vine. I finally got a few shots that are decent if not prize worthy.
Please enjoy, and use your imagination to dream up a story about this flower.