Where I grew up, kudzu is inescapable.

At this time of year the trees along the highway stop being trees and they become big green shapes, as if someone threw a leafy tarp over all the oaks. Some of them look like other things, like oversized animals with a general shape but no real detail. Like looking at clouds miles and miles away that look like dragons or clowns or something. This is summer in the Southeast, where kudzu is king.

Some people I grew up with actually found uses for kudzu besides “erosion control,” which it was originally brought to the region to help with. Some old ladies at the local flea markets would use the big rubbery vines to make baskets or other such things. Other capitalist ventures included using the blossoms to make kudzu jelly. It tasted a lot like grape jelly to me.
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