Alan Titchmarsh: Everything you think you know about ivy is probably wrong

'Of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown’ — or so the carol tells us. The ivy, too, surely deserves a coronet, not least as recompense for the disparagement it must bear at the hands of gardeners and tree lovers, for there are many misconceptions associated with its rampant habit and its ability to grow anywhere and everywhere. This winter, perhaps you could evince some sympathy for the plight of Hedera helix (known in the USA as English ivy) and give credit where credit is due.

For a start, ivy is no parasite. It uses trees (and any vertical structure) to clamber upwards by clinging on with tenacious aerial roots. These do not penetrate the bark of their host, neither do they extract any form of nutrition. The tree, the building or the telegraph pole is nothing more than a ladder, enabling the ivy to venture upwards to as much as 100ft in search of the light. To be fair, it manages to survive pretty well in the shade, forming a thick rug of lobed foliage that is excellent at trapping fallen autumn leaves and saving the gardener the chore of raking them up or rending the air with the drone of a leaf blower.

Only when the mature ivy stems become arborescent (woody) and more bushy are they in danger of threatening the life of the tree with their additional weight and windage, as well as their tendency to rob light from their host. Confined to the main trunk and branches, ivy does little harm and much good — offering sustenance and shelter to about 50 different species of wildlife.

Birds enjoy the protection and shelter it provides. As well as the aforementioned food store of insects, thrushes and wood pigeons in particular will feast on the succulent black berries in winter, helping the spread of the plant by distributing the seeds to pastures new. Smaller birds such as wrens will snuggle down and roost in its thick rug.

For me, the cheeriest thing of all, as far as natural history is concerned, is that although the holly blue butterfly lays its spring clutch of eggs where you would expect, on holly — preferring female plants where both leaves and berries are munched by the caterpillars — the summer brood is raised on ivy. The butterfly clearly has the sense not to put all her eggs in one botanical basket.

Mind you, she will have competition from a wide selection of moths. The nectar of the ivy flowers is valued, too, by bees. Indeed, the ivy bee (Colletes hederae) is totally dependent upon the ivy flowers for sustenance and its breeding pattern is adjusted according to their flowering time.

The gardener has a wide choice when it comes to varieties of ivy. There are about 400 different cultivars with leaves that show variation in both shape and colour — multi-lobed or fingered, simple-shaped or elaborately feathered, and with variegations that encompass every shade of yellow and green through to pure white. Size, too, is variable, from the smallest at less than an inch in diameter to the larger, slightly convex blades of Persian ivy, Hedera colchica, at anything up to 6in wide and 10in long. The variety ‘Sulphur Heart’ is especially popular, with its central splash combining yellow and pale green nestled among the rich, deep green of the body of the leaf.

As trailing plants for containers, as ground cover under trees and shrubs and as woodland carpets, ivies deserve to be revered by the gardener, not least for their ability to thrive almost anywhere and to cling onto their leaves all year round. Rip a bit off, stick it in earth or compost and it will romp away. Yes, keep it clear of the crown of a tree where it can eventually topple its weakened host, but appreciate it for its virtues, as did the ancients, who saw its evergreen leaves as a symbol of love and friendship.

Bacchus wore a wreath of ivy; it reputedly guarded against a chap becoming drunk (no guarantees offered); and a bunch of it frequently adorned a pole outside a local hostelry. The old universities of America (where ivy occurs only as an import, being native to Europe and Asia) were often clad in a cloak of ivy — hence the expression ‘Ivy League’ being applied to that country’s most revered educational institutions. And the carol? The holly represents Jesus Christ and the ivy the Virgin Mary, ever faithful — and evergreen — in her fidelity to God.

This feature originally appeared in the December 24, 2025 issue of Country Life. Click here for more information on how to subscribe.