Holistic Orcharding: June pears (Source: Geo Davis)
I’m excited to report that we may finally be able to enjoy Rosslyn peaches, nectarines, and even a few pears and apples this summer. For the first time since we began planting an orchard, several trees have matured enough to set fruit.
Fruitful Orchard
Holistic Orcharding: Mulberry fruit ripening in June (Source: Geo Davis)
Holistic Orcharding: Mulberry fruit ripening in June (Source: Geo Davis)
Those bright red mulberry will darken as they soak up sun and begin to sweeten. They’re still pretty mealy (though the birds don’t seem to mind at all!)
The photograph at the top of this post shows a couple of small pears. A couple of pear trees set a pear or two last summer, but they dropped (or were eaten by critters) before I ever tasted them. Most of the pear tress are still fruitless, but a couple small green and red fruit are looking promising.
Holistic Orcharding: Young peaches in June (Source: Geo Davis)
For the first, our peach trees are setting fruit. Heavy winds and rains have resulted in steady fruit drop, but I’m guardedly optimistic that we may actually be able to sink out teeth into a few fuzzy, nectar-sweet peaches soon.
The peaches are the most fruitful of all the trees at this point. In fact, a couple of trees are so laden that I’ll probably begin thinning fruit as they grow larger, culling the runts and least healthy fruit and leaving the best.
The photo below on the left offers a wider perspective on a fruitful peach, and the photo on the right shows a young and almost equally fruitful nectarine tree.
Holistic Orcharding: Young peaches in June (Source: Geo Davis)
Holistic Orcharding: Young nectarines in June (Source: Geo Davis)
The three nectarine trees are 3-4 years younger than the peaches, so I’m curious why two of them are already setting fruit. The third nectarine tree has never been very healthy. Dwarfish and sparsely branched, leafed, I’ll try for one more summer to help it along. If it doesn’t begin to catch up, I’ll consider replacing it next year.
Like the apricot that I replaced this year…
Holistic Orcharding: Transplanted apricot tree (Source: Geo Davis)
We’ve struggled with apricots. Few of our apricot trees are thriving, and one died last year. We replaced it this spring with the Goldicot Apricot above, the only variety that seems to be adapting well. I can report good new growth so far on the transplant, but another apricot has died. Both are lowest (and wettest) on the hill, so I plan to address the drainage this fall. Perhaps the heavy clay soil and high spring water table is simply to much for the apricots to withstand.
Deer-full Orchard
Unfortunately it’s not all good news in the orchard. We remain committed to our 100% holistic orcharding (thanks, Michael Phillips!) mission, but we’re still playing defense with Cedar Apple Rust and other pesky challenges. I’ll update on that soon enough, but there’s another frustrating pest that provoked my frustration yesterday.
Holistic Orcharding: Apple tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)
Can you see the munched leaves and branches?
Holistic Orcharding: Apple tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)
Holistic Orcharding: Apple tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)
Ive you look just below center of this photograph you’ll see where a large branch has been snapped right off. It was laying on the ground below. Also plenty of smaller branches and leaves chewed.
The two apple trees which were targeted by the deer were planted last spring. They’d both established relatively well, but they were short enough to offer an easy snack. We keep the trees caged during the fall-through-spring, but we had just recently removed the cages to begin pruning and spreading limbs (see red spreader in image above?), so the trees were easy targets.
And there’s worse news.
Holistic Orcharding: Young persimmon tree browsed by deer (Source: Geo Davis)
That’s a young persimmon tree that we just planted a couple of weeks ago. It was a replacement for a persimmon that arrived dead from the nursery last year (another drama for another day…)
Not only did the deer browse the persimmon, but it ate both leads, presenting a serious hurdle for this transplant. Not a good situation. I’ll pamper this youngster in the hopes that one of these blunted leads will send up another lead, or—more likely, but far from guaranteed—a fresh new lead will bud and head skyward. Fingers crossed.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Some discouraging grafting news this morning: all three apple trees that I grafted with my father a little less than a month ago appear to be rejecting the grafts. No, that’s a bit presumptuous. The trees probably aren’t responsible for the failed grafts, I am.
I found no indication that any of our grafts have taken. Most of the grafted scions/buds look desiccated. Not a single hint of life…
I’ll check again in another week or two. Until then I’ll cultivate a positive mindset since optimism can’t hurt.
Here are a few more photos from today’s inspection.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
Almost a month after grafting three of Rosslyn’s old apple trees, none of the grafted buds/scions look like they have taken.
An ancient and neglected apple tree. Actually some sort of crab apple tree with fruit the size of golf balls. Large golf balls that were tart but delicious. Griffin loved to scarf them up when they carpeted the lawn in autumn.
Doug Decker cleans up ancient crab apple tree after hail storm hits Rosslyn on May, 16, 2012.
For six years I pruned and nourished the crab apple tree back to health. Aside from a largely rotten trunk. Nevertheless, each spring the fruit tree filled with blooms which by summer’s end had become much fruit.
More pruning. Another spring; even more apple blossoms. The hope of fruit.
Yesterday, May 16, 2012 the skies blackened too early for night and then the clouds erupted in a short but angry tantrum of driving rain, mothball-sized hail and driving wind. When the hail and rain stopped and the fog cleared, the crooked fruit tree had fallen, snapped off at her stem.
It’s apple season in the Adirondacks, in my view, the quintessence of the North Country autumn harvest. Grab a crunchy treat and sink your teeth into its sweet-tart bliss. Aaahhh…
Apple Concoctions
An apple (or three) a day keeps the concocter away? Perhaps. Unless, of course, you enjoy experimenting with the nearly infinite concoctions born of the forbidden fruit. The aromas of autumn profit amply from the influence of apples, so I’ll offer a few suggestions to stimulate your imagination. Cinnamon-y applesauce, apple crumble, apple butter, cider, apple pie, apple streusel, apple vinegar, apple fritters, apple chutney, applejack, apple upside down cake (aka tarte Tatin), apple brandy, apple-raisin muffins or pancakes,… It’s easy to get carried away.
Apple Abundance (Source: Geo: Davis)
Apple Family Tree
While apple picking, harvesting, pressing, concocting, and fermenting rightfully share center stage, apple season is at once an invitation to reflect on the diversity of apple varieties in particular, and the many somewhat surprising cousins in their broader family tree.
Did you know that domesticated orchard apples are in the genus Malus which is in the family Rosaceae? Yes, the same taxonomic family that includes rosebushes also includes one of our favorite autumn harvest fruits, the apple. Also pears, quince, peaches, plums, apricots, cherries, raspberries, blackberries, and strawberries. And that’s just some of the edible Rosaceae.
And if apple season offers an annual invitation to celebrate the broader family tree, it’s also a nice celebrate the Malus varieties we cultivate in Rosslyn’s holistic orchard:
Belle de Boskoop
Duchess of Oldenberg
Enterprise
Freedom
Gala
Kidd’s Orange
Liberty
Pixie Crunch
Rubinette
And in addition to the twenty apple trees in our orchard, we have another dozen or so trees scattered along the borders of our back meadows that I’ve gradually pruned and pampered back into production. So far I’ve been unable to identify the varieties, but there are some tasty fruit among them. In keeping with our abundance approach to gardening, we mostly harvest the trees in our orchard and leave the outliers to the deer, raccoons, bears, coyotes, wild turkeys, and probably a bunch of other apple motivated wild neighbors.
Over the last two weeks I’ve observed two young Pixie Crunch apple trees in our orchard succumbing to cedar-apple rust. Or so I suspect.
I’m no plant pathology expert. And I’m an eager but admittedly amateur pomologist. So my hypothesis that dread cedar-apple rust has infiltrated Rosslyn’s orchard may be premature and far off target. (Do you detect my optimism?) Perhaps one of my astute readers will be able to help sort this one out.
Is this cedar-apple rust on Rosslyn’s apple trees?
July delivered the heaviest pressure from Japanese beetles that we have experienced since arriving in Essex, and some of the fruit trees have been largely defoliated by the hungry visitors. (The iridescent buggers are especially fond of stone fruit.) But they don’t seem to be the culprits in the case of the colorfully mottled apple trees.
It’s worth noting that the Pixie Crunch are the only apple trees affected. I plant a diverse mix of fruit trees with usually no more than a couple of each individual variety. This seems to be a blessing because none of the other orchard trees appear to be affected. So far.
It’s also worth noting that the affliction doesn’t seem to kill the trees. It damages the lower leaves but allows new growth higher on the trees. While it is possible that the blight is slowly advancing upward, it does not appear to have spread further up the trees, only to have become more pronounced on the lower portions.
I’m hoping that the condition is not terminal, that it will not spread to other trees in the orchard, and – this is my my most ambitious pipe dream – that I’ve misdiagnosed the affliction as cedar-apple rust. After all, it is actually quite a beautiful coloring. Multicolored polka-dots, yellows and oranges against summer green. A new fashion trend?
But Pollyanna fancies aside, I’d like to identify it as soon as possible so that I can attempt to treat it so that the apple trees can recover and focus their energy on new growth instead of combating the disease. Or, worst case scenario, if it turns out to be something that is slowly killing the trees (and may infect other apple trees,) I’m inclined to remove the Pixie Crunch trees now and replace them this fall.
I welcome your feedback, and I will do my best to keep you posted as I learn more and try to resolve the problem.
So what do you think? Cedar-apple rust? Something else? Although I dread admitting it, I’m fairly convinced that we’re battling a light invasion of cedar-apple rust which has undoubtedly evolved quite happily, unimpeded in the old meadows, volleying back and forth between the native cedars and old abandoned apple trees.
To brace myself, I’m digging into the nitty-gritty details. Anticipate a more in-depth look at cedar-apple rust soon as it appears the most likely suspect, especially since we have several Eastern Red Cedars (Juniperus virginiana) nearby upon which I’ve frequently witnessed (and photographed) the telltale galls…
We walked down the road from the tennis court and stopped off at my parents’ house, still closed up for the winter. It would be several weeks before my parents arrived in Rock Harbor for the summer, and by then the asparagus would have gone to seed, so we picked enough for dinner and enough extra to bring back to the city for another meal.
I also picked a fistful of rhubarb to sauté with maple syrup for dessert. Susan disliked rhubarb, but I loved the lip puckering tartness. The taste transports me instantly to The Farm.
My parents, living and working in New York City, had purchased an 1840s farmhouse on 85 acres near Greenwich, New York five months after getting married. I was born less than two years later.
Although The Farm served primarily as a weekend getaway for the next five years, it dominates the geography of my earliest childhood. A stream of nostalgia gilded memories flow from this pastoral source: exploring the time-worn barns, absent livestock except for those conjured up by my energetic imagination and the swallows which darted in and out, building nests in the rafters, gliding like darts through dusty sunbeams; vegetable gardening with my mother; tending apple, pear and quince trees with my father; eating fresh rhubarb, strawberries and blackberries; discovering deer and raccoons and snakes and even a snapping turtle.
Over the last two weeks I’ve observed two young Pixie Crunch apple trees in our orchard succumbing to cedar-apple rust. Or so I suspect. (Rosslyn Redux)
So what do you think? Cedar-apple rust? Something else? Although I dread admitting it, I’m fairly convinced that we’re battling a light invasion of cedar-apple rust which has undoubtedly evolved quite happily, unimpeded in the old meadows, volleying back and forth between the native cedars and old abandoned apple trees.
Cedar-apple rust (Photo: photoholic1)
To brace myself, I’m digging into the nitty-gritty details, learning what I can about organic cedar-apple rust treatments, and culling the Eastern Red Cedars (Juniperus virginiana) growing nearby, the very ones upon which I’ve detected the telltale galls and gelatinous orange horns ever since we started landscaping, gardening and recovering the back meadows.
When I have time to thumb through old photos from the spring/summer of 2008 or 2009 I’ll dig out some of the photographs I took. At the time I was fascinated with the colorful fungi that emerged after wet periods. I snapped images to help me identify what I took for an innocuous parasite.
Symptoms of Cedar-Apple Rust
In my opinion, the symptoms of cedar-apple rust are most evident on the cedar trees, especially during the brightly colored phase visible in the photo on the right.
On the Eastern Red Cedar host, the fungus produces reddish-brown galls from 1/4 to 1 inch in diameter. These galls can be mistaken for cone structures by the uninitiated. After reaching a diameter of about 1/2 inch, they show many small circular depressions. In the center of each depression is a small, pimple-like structure. In the spring these structures elongate into orange gelatinous protrusions or horns. The spore-bearing horns swell during rainy periods in April and May. The wind carries the microscopic spores to infect apple leaves, fruit and young twigs on trees within a radius of several miles of the infected tree. (Wikipedia)
[pullquote]In midsummer, these rust lesions develop hairlike, cylindrical tubes (hyphae), which release spores into the air that are blown to the juniper host.[/pullquote]
Perhaps because my apple trees afflicted with cedar-apple rust are still small, the fungus is less apparent. But closer examination of the leaves (no fruit have set on the pair of young Pixie Crunch apple trees yet) reveal the signature markings.
The most conspicuous symptoms on apple are bright orange, glistening lesions on the leaves. Lesions which are not inhibited chemically may form small tufts of spore-producing structures (aecia) on the lower surface of the leaf by July or August. Cedar-apple rust appears on fruit first as bright orange, slightly raised lesions, but may take on a more brown and cracked appearance as the fruit enlarges. Usually some of the orange color remains at harvest as evidence of the early season infection… Stem infection causes a slight swelling of the stem and may result in abscission of the young fruit. (West Virginia University, Kearneysville)
Bright yellow/orange spots develop on the upper surface of the leaves in late spring. These spots gradually enlarge, becoming evident on the undersurface of the leaves as small bulges. In midsummer, these rust lesions develop hairlike, cylindrical tubes (hyphae), which release spores into the air that are blown to the juniper host. Infected leaves of apples and crabapples may drop, with defoliation more severe in dry summers. (The Morton Arboretum)
Disease Cycle of Cedar-Apple Rust
Cedar-apple rust (Photo: photoholic1)
I’d like to dive a little deeper into the complex relationship between cedar-apple rust (Gymnosporangium juniperi-virginianae) and the two host species – apple trees and eastern red cedar trees – that sustain it.
Operating well out of my arena of even nominal knowledge, I’ll continue to defer to the experts as we examine the 2-season life cycle of cedar-apple rust.
I apologize for redundancies, but as a non-expert I feel better include too much rather than too little information, even at the risk of overemphasizing some aspects of the condition. If you’re a quick study, scan and move on.
The rust organism spends one full year of its life cycle on junipers. During the second spring… the galls become rain soaked and swell, producing jelly-like tendrils (spore horns) that project out of the galls. As the spore horns begin to dry, the spores are released and carried by the wind to young, newly developing leaves of hawthorns and other susceptible plants. Dispersal of spores can range up to 5 miles from a juniper but most infections develop within several hundred feet. (The Morton Arboretum)
Cedar Apple Rust is most easily identified by the appearance of small yellow to orange lesions that will appear on the top of leaves, petioles, and even on young fruits. Depending on host susceptibility, these lesions can increase in size at varying rates, with faster enlargement on more susceptible cultivars. These lesions can occasionally be surrounded by a red band, but this is not the standard. After this, small brown pustules will develop that are no larger than 1mm in diameter. These will produce watery, orange drops. Next… comes yellow brown lesions up to 15mm in diameter on the underside of leaves. From these, dark tubular structures are produced; these will release red brown spores. (University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign)
Cedar apple rust is caused by the fungi… Gymnosporangium juniperi-virginianae that spend part of their life cycles on Eastern Red Cedars growing near orchards. The complex disease cycle of cedar apple rust, alternating between two host plants… [starts when] at the first warm rain of spring, the spore horns become gelatinous masses and produce their teliospores.
[pullquote]Wind carries the spores to apple leaves… [where they] attach themselves to the young leaves, germinate, and enter the leaf or fruit tissues.[/pullquote]
Wind carries the spores to apple leaves at about the time that apple buds are in the pink or early blossom stage. Upon reaching apple buds or leaves, the spores attach themselves to the young leaves, germinate, and enter the leaf or fruit tissues. Infection takes place in as little as four hours under favorable conditions. Yellow lesions develop in one to three weeks.
In July and August, spores from the apple leaves (Aeciospores) are produced. The wind carries the spores back to Eastern Red Cedars, completing the infectious cycle. The spores land on cedar needle bases or in cracks or crevices of twigs. There, they germinate and producing small, green-brown swellings about the size of a pea. Galls do not produce spores until the second spring. However, mature galls usually are present every year… (Wikipedia)
Plenty of overlap between these three sources (or should I say “millions of sources” since Wikipedia is a gargantuan, open source collaboration?) A pretty clear picture is emerging, and a none too enticing picture at that!
Prevention & Treatment of Cedar-Apple Rust
So for a gardener who avoids non-organic pest control, cedar-apple rust appears to be a rather formidable adversary. And yet, I’m hoping to bypass the threat without resorting to harmful chemicals. As I mentioned above, I’ve already begun to eliminate cedars within the immediate vicinity, and we’ll continue culling all withing a quarter mile or so of the orchard. This is an especially reasonable preventative measure because we can sue all of the cedar trees as naturally rot-resistant fence posts, and we can chip the branches into mulch. This is known as “cultural control”.
The easiest (or maybe just most successful) practice would be to remove all the galls from Eastern red cedar trees in the surrounding areas. This rust does not overwinter on any of the hosts mentioned in this article, and instead overwinters on nearby cedar. Midway through the growing season, the yellow orange spots release spores that will infect cedar to ensure the pathogens winter survival. The cedar galls are bright orange in color, and look like strange masses of jelly tendrils. These should be removed in early spring to prevent summer infection, and then removed once again in the three to four week blooming period.. (University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign)
Because this disease requires two hosts, the separation of the hosts for a distance of one mile will help reduce infection. Ideally, to minimize disease host availability, plant trees and shrubs that are resistant to rust diseases. (The Morton Arboretum)
Interruption of the disease cycle is the only effective method for control of the cedar apple rust. The recommended method of control is to “remove cedars located within a 1-mile radius” of the apples to interrupt the disease cycle, though this method is seldom practical… [Planting less susceptible apple tree varieties is prudent, because] resistant varieties are less susceptible to attack, but that does not mean that they are free from an aggressive attack. (Wikipedia)
While a mile radius is challenging, I am removing all red cedars with open lawn or meadows allowing easy spread of the cedar-apple rust spores. And I will ensure that all new apple trees planted this fall and next spring are not overly susceptible to the affliction.
Sometimes the simplest solution is best! I will follow this advice going forward, even though I am also hoping to eradicate the cedar host. And with a stroke of luck I’ll be able to avoid the most frequent treatment solution proposed: “chemical control”.
Protective fungicides can be applied to help minimize infection. A minimum of three applications should be done. These applications protect the new leaves from spores that are dispersed from the juniper host in mid-spring. Spraying apple… foliage after symptoms develop has no controlling effect… Begin spraying when new growth appears and flower buds show color but are not yet open (balloon stage). Repeat three to four times at 10 to 14 day intervals. (The Morton Arboretum)
Fungicide sprays applied in a timely manner are highly effective against the rust diseases during the apple cycle… If cedar apple rust disease is diagnosed on apple fruits and leaves it is far too late to spray.
Application of fungicides to the junipers before and while they are in the infectious orange gelatinous state seems to reduce the severity of the outbreak. (Wikipedia)
To date I’ve been unable to identify any truly organic fungicides guaranteed to treat cedar-apple rust. They may exist, and despite my optimism that I’ll overcome the threat posed by this fungus, I would be interested in hearing from you if you’re aware of a proven organic treatment. Thank in advance for your assistance.
