The Myth & Magic of Virginia Creeper
One of the things I love so much about my cottage in the woods is that I am surrounded by plants, many of which I never encountered in the wild when I lived in an actual town. I’m taking some time to get to know the flora (and fauna) of my new home, including the seemingly endless array of Joe Pye weed, mullein, chicory, fleabane, and goldenrod. I discovered the stone wall up against the hillside behind my house is covered in a beautiful five-leafed vine, did a bit of digging, and learned it’s Virginia creeper, or Parthenocissus quinquefolia.
In some places, it’s considered so invasive that you’re not allowed to deliberately plant it — I didn’t, it just appeared on its own, and probably has been doing so for decades. That said, I’m excited about it for a few reasons: first of all, it’s gorgeous. A single tendril can grow up to twenty to thirty feet during the summer, so it makes a perfect climber on rock walls, fences, and so forth. Also, I’m eagerly awaiting its color change; come the cooler weather in just a couple of weeks, those green leaves will turn orange and red, lighting up my hillside in a blaze of color. Additionally, the vines will sprout little dark berries, perfect to attract the birds into my yard. Finally, it’s good for erosion control, which is great because I really don’t want a quarter acre of hillside to slide into my kitchen any time soon.
And of course, as y’all know, once I figure out I have access to a plant, I gotta figure out what sort of magical mayhem I can make with it!
From an historical perspective, Virginia creeper has been used in medicine for a long time. It’s been used to treat febrile disorders, as well as diarrhea and symptoms of the plague (seems appropriate for 2021, amirite?), and as an emetic, poultice, and bark decoction. So, to me, that certainly seems like it would be valuable in healing magic.
Bug Woman, over at Adventures in London, says:
Virginia creeper has been used as a treatment for urinary disorders and in the treatment of malaria. It was also part of the medicine used by the Navajo in their nine-day long Mountain Chant Ceremony, which is held at the end of winter, and is considered to be a healing ceremony, not only for individuals who may be sick but for the whole of the Navajo universe.
Here’s my usual disclaimer: I am not a trained herbalist and do not give medical advice, as my interest in herbs is strictly folkloric and magical, so if you’re thinking about eating, drinking, smoking, or otherwise ingesting any plants, check with a qualified herbalist before you do.
Some people consider the creeper an ivy, and ivy is traditionally attributed with magical properties connecting it to marriage, love, and fidelity — seems you could easily use it by wrapping a live piece of the vine around a pair of poppets to strengthen a romantic relationship. What else does ivy do? Well, it grows thick and lush, often creating a dense habitat in which animals can hide from danger — so maybe consider using it as a protective barrier around your home (or if you live in an area where it’s considered invasive, put it in pots near your front door).
From a scientific standpoint, Parthenocissus quinquefolia is considered part of the grape family — which means it could come in handy for magic associated with grapevines: abundance, prosperity, bounty, gratitude, and even fertility. I haven’t harvested enough to dry out yet — I’m waiting for the leaves to go red — but I’m thinking a wreath would look magnificent, and be a great way to attract abundance into my home.
A quick word of caution on the creeper: the berries are super toxic to humans, so do not eat. Also, the leaves can occasionally cause skin irritation (apparently not in everyone, but in some people) if you spend too much time handling them with your bare hands; it’s not the heinous itchy rash you’ll get from poison ivy, but it’s a thing so keep it in mind.
For additional reading on Virginia Creeper:
- Wednesday Weed – Virginia Creeper
- A Modern Herbal – Virginia Creeper
- Taxonomy of Virginia Creeper
- Clemson’s Weed of the Month – Virginia Creeper
One Comment
btburt
I’ve been researching this plant because of an interesting specimen that grows in our backyard. That is to say it’s rooted in our backyard; more accurately, this one plant has grown all over the neighborhood. It has likely been growing there for the past 50-100 years, anchored to a utility pole, and its tendrils extend along fencelines and buildings and up trees and across neighboring roofs. Its leaves turn a beautiful bright crimson in the fall. While its berries contain concentrations of oxalic acid that are toxic for humans, birds like them just fine, and this specimen has established itself as a significant player within the local ecosystem, serving as habitat and territory for a lot of different creatures that live on its bark and around its root system. If it ever figures out how to jump long distances or grow along the lengths of high-voltage power lines, I expect it will quickly escape the confines of our city block and embark upon some sort of career. As yet, it’s displayed no political aspirations, which is a relief.
It makes a reassuring, if silent, companion some nights when I’m outside smoking, and I sense it has the ability to communicate along its full length; that is, it seems to have the ability to transmit news of events that concern it instantaneously from one end of the block to the other. I believe that it also maintains a certain level of awareness of the status of many of the plants, animals and people that live within its “jurisdiction,” so to speak. This is all very subjective, of course, and I realize I’m going out on a limb here, because plant consciousness is really not like human consciousness at all—to speak in metaphor and ascribe human traits risks both anthropomorphizing them and underestimating their capabilities—but this one does seem to possess an alertness and a kind of proprietary benevolent concern that I wasn’t expecting to find in a plant. Magically, then, I would say it displays characteristics similar to a computer network and might be a useful addition to spells having to do with organizational communication.
The reason I’ve been researching Virginia creeper, which led me to your blog, has to do with plant behavior. I understand many plants are capable of certain kinds of movement, for instance, opening and closing leaves and flower petals in response to the day-night cycle. There are others that seem capable of more dramatic movements in response to touch and, in one tropical forest, there are reports of a tree exhibiting a kind of root locomotion allowing it to transport itself to more favorable growth conditions in just a few weeks. I wonder if Virginia creeper is known for having this ability—the name “creeper” suggests it might, although I think this has more to do with its growth habit. It’s just that … well, the one in our backyard seems to be moving quite a bit at night; last year I saw one of its tertiary branches reposition itself over a distance of 18 inches or more in the space of a few minutes. Most nights, it seems to move its tendrils around to some extent just at the limit of perception, and once or twice I’ve been sufficiently spooked by it that I had to go back in the house. Of course, it was after midnight and very dark, and I have a vivid imagination, so I might very well be mistaken. I suppose it’s even possible some neighbors might have been pranking me, but I doubt it: A prankster would have to be really committed to keep something like this going over successive growth seasons, and I don’t think most people have the time or the attention span. I hope it’s not a result of herbivores or anything that might hurt the plant. Have you heard of anything like this?