No Contest

I'm pretty pleased with the way my Major Wheeler honeysuckle vine is performing. After a slow start on my shady back fence, it is spreading out along the fence top and reliably blooming now each May. I love it. I take pictures of it, artfully angled to maximize its modest showing. Very pretty.

And every May without fail my sister in Connecticut sends me a picture of her Major Wheeler honeyscukcle vine and I am gobsmacked and humbled. This is what hers looks like:

It is from a small cutting I gave her before I left Connecticut six years ago (maybe more?) She stuck it in the ground next to her pool and this has been the result. 

I have to concede the battle. There is no contest between her stunning plant and mine. And never will be, as she has full sun, a wet climate and rich soil. I have shade, arid conditions and alkaline soil dirt.

But isn't it fascinating what this plant can do in such different places? Both versions of Major Wheeler are nice. Her massive fiery red cannonball out in the sun is impressive. You can't ignore it.

Mine is a quiet hit of color under the trees, set in a composed tableau. You might miss it.

But where hers announces itself in trumpet blasts and grand glory, mine asks you to come over to the potting bench and see it up close. So I do.

The flowers individually are interesting and the vine makes a graceful drift on the fence. I spend a lot of time at the potting bench, so I notice it.

I like both versions of Major Wheeler, both are lovely plants. But really, the award has to go to that amazing bomb of red by my sister's pool. Here you go, first prize winner:

It's no contest at all!