I HAVE never really liked ivy, have you? The bad thing is that it grows up the wall of our house and all over our trees and hedges. It even covers our fences and gates.

You turn your back for a few seconds and it seems that a new creeping stem has grown. When you are not looking, it crawls along, feeling its way surreptitiously, and before you know, your hedge is draped in star-shaped leaves.

It is evergreen and stops light getting to anything underneath. Yesterday, when I was cycling down our road, I saw a neighbour cutting his hedge down and digging it out. It was a cold day, but he was in a short-sleeved shirt and was sweating.

He had to dig deep to get at the roots of the old hawthorn hedge. He said that the ivy had smothered it, so he dug the ivy roots out as well. Gnarled trunks and dead branches were strewn on the soil, all covered in an ugly tangled mass of ivy. Today, I see smart fencing posts there.

But I must admit, the good thing about ivy is that it helps the wildlife in our gardens. Every year I find wrens’ nests hidden in the ivy on our house, and last year a rare spotted flycatcher used the ivy, creeping up the silver birch, for its nest. And our holly blue butterfly caterpillars rely on the ivy leaves (yes, ivy not holly) for food in the summer.

I hardly noticed the small white ivy flowers in October, but the insects knew they were there. The dome-shaped flower heads are full of nectar for bees, wasps and little insects and give them food to last the winter.

Now, we have the berries. They are beginning to change from green to almost black. You will see them on the topmost strands of old ivy, where the leaves change shape and become oval.

Today, the blackbirds are eyeing their feast, like we eye a chocolate bar. Comfort calories, when spring falters on a cold day.

- Vicky will be talking about her Nature Notes on April 1 for St Oswald’s Ladies Group at the parish centre at 7.30pm.