Clematis. A flower, a vine, a celebration of spring and summer that on the face of it seems lovely, and pure, and innocent. Little do you know…
Sure, wander around the neighborhood at the right time of the year and it’s front and center, showing its public face with blossoms of various hues.
But each has that center, that collection of tentacles, all waiting for their chance to be free and party.
But secretly, it’s scheming, hiding a darker side.
It’s like a teenager, with thoughts of plant sex, or maybe waiting for the cover of night to light its hidden lamp and explode into full-on Goth mode.
Shocked? Surprised? It gets worse.
After all the public displays of affection and floral fooling around are done, some note that those odd human critters aren’t paying attention anymore. Now it’s time for them to really let their “hair” down.
And what happens when they grow that hair and turn hippy? Drugs, man.
It starts innocently enough. A nice warm buzz, painting the world in the soft fuzzy glow of pastels.
But then they graduate to the hard stuff. The edges get sharper, and they give the impression of getting lit.
For some, that’s enough. But for the truly hardcore, they’re not done getting lit until they’ve put Las Vegas to shame.
(For a much better look at the rise and debauchery of the clematis, click on any picture.)
Talk about an acid trip.
So the next time you wander about and see a prim, pristine clematis spreading its arms and looking innocent, beware…