Summer Grape
Summer Grape is probably the most common liana in southwest Virginia
and is also a character in several interesting stories. For
example, my father always told me that if I got lost in the woods, I
could cut the stem of a grapevine and drink the lightly sweetened water
that gushes down from the plant’s upper reaches. Although I was
tempted, I never tried to drink from a grapevine because I knew that I
would be killing a plant that took years to reach its current
height. But I did spend a lot of time looking up at the leafy
peak, wondering why grapevines grow so tall.
Later, I came to understand trees as the plant version of
our Cold War arms race. Every plant needs sunlight, and trees
figured out that if they grew a bit taller than their neighbors they
could unfold their canopy in full sun and suck up all of the energy
raining down from above. The neighbors did not want to be
outdone, so they grew just a little taller themselves. Back and
forth, the height contest spun out of control, until it finally had to
end when trees were no longer able to push water from their roots any
higher into the sky. Each tree had thrust its leaves dozens of
feet into the air, only to end up neck and neck with its neighbors
after all.
I like to think
of grapes as free loaders in this forest Cold War. The lianas do
not bother to build deep roots and strong trunks which would be
necessary to hold up a tree-sized canopy. Instead, they simply
use tendrils to latch onto shrubs and trees as they climb toward the
light. In a fraction of the time (and for a fraction of the
energy) that it takes for a tree to reach canopy height, a grapevine
can wiggle its way up through the trees to achieve full sun. It
is easy to see that grapes are the true winners in the forest arms race.
Want
to be notified when new comments are posted on this page? Click on the
RSS button after you add a comment to subscribe to the comment feed.