Holistic Orcharding: Kaolin Clay (Photo: Tony Foster)
Kudos to Tony Foster for completing the first kaolin clay treatment in the orchard. Spraying Rosslyn’s fruit trees with kaolin clay is part of our nontoxic, organic, holistic orcharding regimen. It’s an effective way to reduce plum curculio (Conotrachelus nenuphar) larvae and European apple sawfly (Hoplocampa testudinea) larvae without resorting to toxic pesticides.
Here’s the scoop from holistic orcharding guru, Michael Phillips.
We deal with two “petal-fall pests” in the eastern half of the United States… Plum curculio larvae get their start in a crescent-like scar the female weevil makes to prevent the growing fruitlet from crushing her egg; European apple sawfly larvae first scratch the surface of a pea-sized fruitlet, and then go on to eat the seeds in another three or four fruitlets… Those petal-fall pests… can be held effectively in check with a nontoxic white clay covering applied over the entire surface of the tree. The kaolin clay panicles confuse the insect adults and prove incredibly irritating… Application begins as the blossoms start to fall and needs to be thorough. It takes two or three initial sprays to build up a thick enough base to repel these insects. Renew the clay weekly for the next month. (Source: Holistic Orcharding: Michael Phillips)
Sure, spraying kaolin clay onto the trees creates a curious camouflage look, but it’s proven quite an effective deterrent.
Holistic Orcharding: Kaolin Clay (Photo: Tony Foster)
And, given that the alternative, fruit marred with plum curculio larvae and European apple sawfly larvae isn’t particularly pleasant, we’ve found that several coatings of white kaolin clay early in the fruiting season is a super solution.
Holistic Orcharding: Kaolin Clay (Photo: Tony Foster)
Thank you, Tony, for following up installation of the Tanglefoot wraps with round one of kaolin clay spraying. Round two as soon as the rain begins to diminish the white mottling…
For the last few years I’ve made brazen claims about holistic, organic gardening and orcharding. No pesticides. No way; no how.
Period.
No exceptions.
I’ve refused to spray our fruit trees to inoculate them against all of the baddies that lurk in an orchard’s tender places. I’ve refuted the discouraging oracles who assure me that I will fail; that a successful orchard requires, requires, pesticides and fungicides; that neighboring fruit tree growers will consider my bad judgment not only an ill-informed mistake but a dangerous threat to their own trees.
Apple Blossom, Spring 2016
I’ve soldiered on, resolved to make Rosslyn a toxin-free, organic, healthy environment. I’ve poured over alternative gardening, lawn maintenance and orcharding resources. And I’ve experimented. Sometimes successfully, sometimes unsuccessfully. The orchard alone has required about a 5-10% replant rate over the last 3+ years. Which is discouraging. And frustrating. But it’s also remarkable that most of the trees have survived and thrived!
But I am slightly evolving in my thinking. Less dogmatic. More informed. And my black and white “Pesticides: No Way, No How” line in the sand is yielding to alternative, non-toxic, but considerably more proactive approaches to fruit tree growing. (Much credit is due to Michael Phillips (Grow Organic Apples: Holistic Orchard Network) among other holistic orchard mentors. Thanks, Sir Phillips!)
Last summer I added three new “tools” to my orcharding, and I’m going to focus on each of the three in separate posts in order to keep the topics focused and useful to others exploring the realm of healthy, non-toxic fruit tree propagation. Here are the three:
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.
For several years I’ve been absorbing holistic orcharding and gardening wisdom from Michael Phillips. I no longer recall how I came across the pied piper of organic, non-toxic fruit tree propagation, but it’s quite possible that my first introduction was an article in Mother Earth News titled, “Organic Apple Growing: Advice From Michael Phillips“.
If you’re uninitiated, Michael Phillips is the owner (along with his wife, Nancy, and their daughter, Gracie), steward, and chronicler of Lost Nation Orchard in New Hampshire. His book, The Holistic Orchard, is the bible for organic apple growers. Here’s a trailer for the companion DVD, Holistic Orcharding.
Whether or not “Organic Apple Growing: Advice From Michael Phillips“, the article in Mother Earth News, was my introduction to Michael Phillips’ ideas about holistic orcharding, there are some great takeaways that I’ll highlight here:
Q: How big of a hole do I need to dig for planting a tree? A: The size of the tree hole needs to be large enough to accommodate the roots without bending them. A 3-foot diameter hole generally fits the bill. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)
Q: A friend told me I should buy a mycorrhizal product to boost the growth of my trees. Does such a product have any worth? A: Plants have developed an incredible symbiotic relationship with certain fungi to help get nutrients from the soil, as well as to ward off pathogenic organisms. An apple tree has specific mycorrhizae that interact with its roots in the humus layer in these ways. You can inoculate your soil by finding a healthy wild tree and then bringing a few scoops of the soil beneath its branches back to your ground. Ecosystems adapt to the needs at hand without our necessarily having to buy a packaged product. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)
Q: Some bug is tunneling into a lot of my fruit when it’s just the size of a nickel. What’s up? A: We deal with two “petal-fall pests” in the eastern half of the United States that easily could be your culprits. Plum curculio larvae get their start in a crescent-like scar the female weevil makes to prevent the growing fruitlet from crushing her egg; European apple sawfly larvae first scratch the surface of a pea-sized fruitlet, and then go on to eat the seeds in another three or four fruitlets. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)
Q: What’s up with the new kaolin clay spray? A: Those petal-fall pests identified above can be held effectively in check with a nontoxic white clay covering applied over the entire surface of the tree. The kaolin clay panicles confuse the insect adults and prove incredibly irritating… Application begins as the blossoms start to fall and needs to be thorough. It takes two or three initial sprays to build up a thick enough base to repel these insects. Renew the clay weekly for the next month. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)
Q: Why did my grandparents hang open jugs of vinegar and molasses out in the orchard? A: Such homegrown traps usually target adult fruit moths such as the codling moth. Unfortunately, all sons of bugs end up drowning in this brew, some of which might have been beneficial allies. I prefer to control codlings moths with well-timed sprays of Bacillus thuringiensis (Bt), a biological pesticide stomach-specific to caterpillars. Others have had some success wrapping corrugated cardboard around the trunk of the tree, where the larvae crawl to continue their development. Then at the end of the summer, the cardboard is removed and burned. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)
Q: When do I hang those red sticky ball traps? A: Apple maggot flies (AMF) are the culprits drawn to these effective traps. The new generation emerges from the soil beginning in late June, with females seeking fruit in which to lay eggs throughout July and August. The sticky balls mimic the best apple to be found in the orchard. The female alights on the trap and stays put because of a layer of sticky goo called “Tangletrap” covering the red sphere… Two to four traps per tree generally suffice to keep AMF larvae from ruining a good harvest. I set out traps on early maturing varieties by the first of July, then scrape off the dead flies and renew the sticky material when moving the traps to later-maturing varieties in early August. (Source: MOTHER EARTH NEWS)
It’s time for a follow-up to my Organic Orcharding post, specifically a detailed look at how to use Tanglefoot for non-toxic pest control in a holistic fruit tree orchard. For readers wondering about zone compatibility and looking for a regional reference to help you evaluate the relevance of this post to your individual growing conditions, our orchard is located in Essex, New York along the Adirondack Coast of the Champlain Valley. We are purists when it comes to holistic orcharding and gardening (despite challenges unique to growing fruits and vegetables in the North Country) and we have come to rely on Tanglefoot summer after summer. (You may also want to check out my post, “How to Apply Tanglefoot to Trees“ for a simple, straightforward how-to video. Your holistic orchard will thank you in abundance!)
Pre-Goo & Post-Goo
Here’s a glimpse at the first two phases of Tanglefoot installation, documented in Rosslyn’s 100% organic orchard. This first photo was taken just before the sticky goo was lathered onto the corrugated paper.
Tanglefoot Installation: wrap trunk with corrugated paper (Source: Geo Davis)
So tidy, right? Not for long! Here’s what it looks like after the sticky Tanglefoot is installed.
Tanglefoot Installation: lather ultra gooey Tanglefoot on the corrugated paper wrapped around tree trunk. (Source: Geo Davis)
Yuck! Hopefully the noisome critters that like to climb up the trunks of fruit trees agree.
It’s a messy installation process, but it seems to work pretty well.
How to Use Tanglefoot
I’ll prologue the most important part of this post by saying two things:
Applying Tanglefoot to fruit trees a messy but relatively straightforward task.
Better instructors have already explained application, so I’ll defer to their able guidance rather than overlook something important.
One of the best step-by-step Tanglefoot installation videos was made by San Diego master gardeners Carol Graham (unfortunately no longer available online). Similarly thorough written instructions are provided by the products’s manufacturer, Contech-Inc:
We recommend using 4” wide wrap of waterproof paper or tape on the trunk of the tree and applying Tree Tanglefoot over the wrap. Tree Tanglefoot is oil-based and the oils will soak into the bark. Banding material eliminates staining of the tree and offers quick, complete removal of the sticky material. In addition, Tree Tanglefoot will remain sticky longer when applied on top of a surface resistant to oil. For rough bark trees it may be necessary to plug the gaps between the tree trunk and the banding, this can be done by using insulation or other materials.
Apply Tree Tanglefoot Insect barrier in a uniform fashion. It can be applied in a heavy or light coat. Heavy coats are approximately 3” wide and 3/32” thick. A heavy coat is used when the insects to kept from the tree foliage are large or numerous, or when there is little time available to maintain the band. Light coats are 3” wide and 1/16” thick. A light coat is good as a general barrier against smaller or less numerous insects, or when the band can be maintained regularly.
Generally, Tree Tanglefoot will remain sticky and effective until it is covered with insects, dust or other debris. A build-up of debris or insects will create a bridge for other insect to cross. This debris requires removal and possible re-application in spots. If an area is unusually dusty or the surface of the barrier is stiffened, Tree Tanglefoot can be rubbed around to expose a new sticky layer beneath. Remove bands at end of season. (Source: Tree Tanglefoot Insect Barrier Products – Contech Inc)
Still a little uncertain? (Or just procrastinating to avoid making a gooey-sticky mess?) Here’s another resource I’ve also relied upon for amazing step-by-step Tanglefoot guide with photographs. Here are the simple, straightforward instructions.
Using a putty knife or a cake decorating spatula. If you choose a putty knife be very careful with the edges and corners as they are very sharp and can easily damage the bark of the tree. I recommend using a cake decorating spatula because they have rounded edges at the tip.
1. Wrap your tree in plastic film
2. Soften up a glob of Tanglefoot with the spatula
3. Work it into a smooth lump without strings back to the bucket
4. Apply the product in a thin 1″ wide band a few inches from the top of the plastic all the way around the tree creating a complete circle
5. Drag your spatula in the same direction that you wrapped the tree with the plastic. If you go the other way you’ll just pull the plastic right off
6.Make another band of Tanglefoot a few inches down from the first band. This creates 2 barriers that work together to stop the pests from walking up your tree (Source: How to Use Tanglefoot – Backyard Food Growing)
I use the paper “tape” version and have not yet tried the plastic film, but I’m intrigued. However this post made me wary.
I got some Tanglefoot this year for my apple trees, had a lot of problems with ants last year. I tried attaching bands of saran wrap around the tree trunks and applying the Tanglefoot that way. That was a complete disaster/mess, so I called the Tanglefoot manufacturer and asked if it would harm my trees to apply their product directly to the bark. They said that other than a dark ring/stain around the tree, no, it should not harm the tree at all to be directly applied. So, that is what I did. Did it about a month ago. No signs of any tree trouble yet. (Source: Putting tanglefoot on trees directly – GardenWeb)
I decided to ask the author, Stacy, the about plastic wrap vs. paper banding.
Great post, and the photo play-by-play is the best resource I’ve found online! Thank you. This is my first foray into fruit tree pest tangling (wrangling?), and I’m curious about your preference for plastic wrap instead of the paper/cardboard option proposed by the manufacturer. I’m guessing you’ve tried both and decided that the plastic wrap works better? Would you be willing to explain the pros and cons of plastic instead of paper? Hoping to get this right the first time! Thanks.
Stacy answered my question the very same day (Wow! Thanks, Stacy.) as follows:
Thank you! I’m happy the pictures are helpful for you. You’ll do just fine, the hardest part is keeping it off of yourself and your clothes! I have a few reasons for the plastic.
The method that I show here (with the two stripes/plastic/cotton balls) was the way I was taught during my first experience with Tanglefoot, I didn’t even know about the cardboard at that point. It wasn’t until I started working in a retail nursery a few years later that I found out about the cardboard wrap.
I think the cardboard wrap could be good if your tree is perfectly smooth, as it leaves gaps that the bugs can walk under unobstructed. It might work ok if you put cotton balls under it and secure it tightly to close those gaps though.
Also, I don’t choose the cardboard because I live in a very rainy climate and the cardboard would disintegrate in no time at all. If your area is less rainy then it would probably be ok. I prefer the plastic too because it holds tight to the bark and stays put for the month or two that it’s on there.
I’ve just continued to use the plastic/cotton balls method because it was simple and used items I already had at home, there wasn’t an additional product that I needed to buy.
It’s just important to get the plastic off when the season is done or when the Tanglefoot becomes ineffective, the plastic allows no airflow for the bark. This would be a benefit to using the cardboard. (Source: backyardfoodgrowing.com)
Thanks again, Stacy.
Needless to say, I still haven’t tried the plastic film. Three years of installation with paper wraps, and the approach seems to be working. So, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!
It’s but a month and a day after Independence Day and we’re eating our first peaches of the season. Eureka!
So memorable a moment each summer when I savor the first bites of the first peaches of the season that I’ve begun to wonder if we might need to create a floating holiday. It’s hard to conceive of a better cause for celebration.
First Peaches, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
First Peaches Haiku
Summer’s first peaches, sunshine soaked and siren sweet, seduce all senses.
— Geo Davis
First Peach, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
Peach Plenitude
Growing up in the Adirondacks’ Champlain Valley, we grew fruit trees. Apples, pears, quince. But never peaches. I honestly think it was considered foolhardy in those days. Perhaps conditions pre/post climate change have shifted enough or the varietals have become hardy enough that we can account for the difference in perspective this way. Or maybe it was just unfamiliarity.
First Peaches, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
For this reason, I’m abundantly grateful for our stone fruit harvests in general and our peaches in particular. It’s almost as if we’re cheating nature! And my tendency to romance the first peaches of the season is rooted in this enduring awe. We actually raised peaches! Almost too good to be true. Perhaps this peach plenitude will eventually become familiar enough that we’ll take it for granted. But it’s hard to imagine. Such a delicate ambrosial fruit prospering in our northern climes. Truly a bonanza!
First Peach, 2021 (Source: Geo Davis)
If you’re new to my blathering blog, welcome. And you might be curious what sort of peaches we’re growing. Our proximity to Lake Champlain creates a microclimate that favors us when it comes to stone fruit and other marginal crops for our northern growing zone. On the other hand our soil, especially west of the carriage barn where the orchard is located, has an extremely high clay content. This is not ideal for growing peaches. They do not favor wet feet.
That said, we’ve been fortunate growing Reliance Peach (2 trees) and Contender Peach (2 trees). I’d welcome a recommendation from growers who think we’d be wise to add another winter-hardy variety that responds well to holistic orcharding.
Peaches This Year, August 2022 (Source: Geo Davis)
Glorious indeed it is to report that our peaches this year are the tastiest I’ve ever grown. Also the biggest, juiciest, sweetest, and IMHO the prettiest.
I’m chortling in my joy. Imagine, if you dare, the decadence of lifting a sun warmed peach, freshly plucked from the branch, up to your mouth, lips parting against the fuzzy flesh, teeth sinking effortlessly into the sweet meat, juice dribbling down your chin,…
It’s truly sensational! Peach perfection. Almost.
Sadly our perfect peaches this year belie a bittersweet backstory. But let’s micropoetry-pause a moment before sharing the slightly sadder side of this decadent moment.
Peaches This Year, August 2022 (Source: Geo Davis)
Peaches This Year: A Haiku
Few peaches this year but plump, nectar swollen with best flavor ever.
— Geo Davis
Bittersweet Backstory
That haiku actually tells the whole story, backstory and all. Our peaches this year are startlingly few after the bumper crops we’ve enjoyed over the last few years. It’s fair to say that 2020 and 2021 provided enough peaches to satisfy our most gluttonous appetites and to share with all who desired, from friends to wildlife. But 2022 has been a been a poignant recalibration.
We lost our two Reliance Peach trees this season. All of four peach trees budded on time this spring, and all four began to push out tiny little leaves. But then the two Reliance trees stalled. No apparent weather shock or fungus or predation. Just withering. And then suddenly the Reliance trees were dead. The other two trees, both Contender Peach variety, struggled as well. But they gradually overcame whatever was afflicting them (despite never really recovering 100%). Both Contender Peach trees experienced some die-back, and both set an unusually light load of fruit.
We will be replacing the dead Reliance trees and likely adding in a third new peach tree as well. Any suggestions? (Reliance vs. Contender Peach) I’m definitely open to recommendations for hardy, tasty peach tree recommendations that respond well to holistic orcharding (i.e. don’t rely on pesticide.) I’ll enjoy researching replacements, so that’s a silver lining, I suppose. But the best upside to the paucity of peaches this year has been is that the few we’ve enjoyed are quite miraculously the tastiest we’ve ever grown!
It’s Tanglefoot time again. Actually, we’re late — really late! — due to this rainy, soggy summer. But better late than never, especially since I’ve begun to spy the first tent caterpillars of the 2017 season.
First a quick refresher. A little over a year ago I explained how to use Tanglefoot and I explained why holistic orcharding benefits from this goopy ritual.
It’s a messy installation process, but it seems to work pretty well… Applying Tanglefoot to fruit trees a messy but relatively straightforward task. Better instructors have already explained application, so I’ll defer to their able guidance rather than overlook something important. (Source: How to Use Tanglefoot (And Why Fruit Trees Need It))
That post includes the excellent advice of “better instructors”, but I wanted to follow up with a quick visual instructional to show you how to apply Tanglefoot. Consider it a supplement. Quick tips.
How to Apply Tanglefoot (Source: Geo Davis)
How to Apply Tanglefoot
In the previous post I discuss using plastic film to wrap the tree trunk, but four years into our Tanglefoot adventure, we’re still using paper/cardboard wraps like in the photo above. It’s simple, quick, biodegradable, and it seems to work perfectly. And it’s a little less plastic to use and put into a landfill!
After securing the cardboard wrap with a piece of hemp twine, the only challenge is to sear Tanglefoot around the circumference of the tree without getting it all over your hands…
Following is a quick video / slide show intended for orchardists, fruit tree hobbyists, or basically anybody who wants quick and easy instruction for how to apply Tanglefoot on young (i.e. slender trunk) trees. Many thanks to Jacob for letting me photograph his hands during installation.
I hope you find the video helpful. We’ve been extremely satisfied with the results year-after-year, and we’re happy to recommend Tanglefoot (and confident in our recommendation) for other fruit tree growers. And if you’re looking for a little broader perspective on why we use and recommend this somewhat unconventional pest prevention solution in our organic orchard, definitely check out my post, “How to Use Tanglefoot (And Why Fruit Trees Need It)“. I’m confident you’ll be pleased with the results. Good luck!
There is much to admire in a mulberry tree. The handsome habit and height. The luxurious leaves. The shady canopy. The concentrated blackberry-esque burst of inky sweetness.
While you may have a fuzzy notion about mulberry wine, there’s a fairly good chance you haven’t actually spied — up close and personal — a mulberry tree or mulberries. So I find when I walk family and friends through Rosslyn’s orchard this time of year, stopping to point out the ripening fruit. If ripe enough to eat, and lately the mulberries have been perfect, almost everyone who tastes the fruit loves the taste. And yet these delicious tree-grown raspberry impersonators are unfamiliar. I wonder why…
I’d like to revisit this perplexing situation in in the future. But now a look at our three trees and a mindful mulberry meditation of sorts. First let’s stand a while beneath one of the mulberry trees, and lifting our gaze up into the shady foliage, our eyes will begin to spy the mulberries hanging like miniature clusters of grapes.
Although I shared this Instagram post yesterday, most of those photos actually date back a couple of weeks. Now the third and last of our mulberry trees is ripening. And it’s raining. So I harken back to sunnier days.
The first two Hardy Mulberry (Morus nigra) trees ripened roughly concurrently. Their fruit is slightly smaller than the Illinois Everbearing Mulberry (Morus rubra) which we (and the birds!) are harvesting now. Despite some potential color confusion with Morus nigra (aka black mulberry), Morus rubra (aka red mulberry), and Morus alba (aka white mulberry, common mulberry, or silkworm mulberry), both of our varieties are ripe when they appear shiny black. The juice within is actually somewhere between scarlet, violet, and midnight. Lips and fingers quickly stain dramatically and persistently, so don’t expect to sneak a snack without getting caught!
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Carley, our year-plus old Labrador retriever manages to stealthily Hoover fallen fruit from the grass, at once an efficient and stain free means of harvesting. I’ve yet to master this technique myself, so my fingertips often belie my gluttony for the rest of the day.
Mulberry Maturation
Our mulberry trees are about nine or ten years old at this point, and they’re growing tall enough to actually evoke treeness rather than nursery stock or dwarf stock. As the trees have aged they’ve set heavier and heavier crops of fruit each summer. Given the approximately 15-18′ height of all three trees, the birds are the primary beneficiaries. We harvest what we can reach and leave the rest to our avian neighbors.
When the fruit first emerge from the mulberry flowers, they are green and covered in small black “threads” left from the blooms. These fall off as the mulberries ripen first to white, then pink, then red, then purple, and finally a deep lavendar-black. At this point they are plump, glossy, and 100% ready to eat!
It’s time for my mulberry meditation, but first a gallery (in case the Instagram post isn’t working.)
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Mulberry Meditation (Source: Geo Davis)
Mulberry Meditation
At the outset I mentioned a mindful mulberry meditation, and I hinted at the vague familiarity that I and others might have with wine fermented from the juice of this beneficent tree. That time has come.
“I put everything I can into the mulberry of my mind and hope that it is going to ferment and make a decent wine. How that process happens, I’m sorry to tell you I can’t describe.”
John Hurt
“Huzzah!” I’m grateful indeed to Mr. Hurt for bundling up such creative cleverness. Both bacchanalian and theatrical, Dionysian and persistently mysterious… I’m struck by the many ways this metaphorical explanation approximates the whimsical adventure of redacting Rosslyn. I’ve turned often enough to my own compost and gardening metaphors to obliquely and insufficiently describe my own process. I’m essaying — albeit in unpredictable fits and starts — to distill our wonder-filled fifteen year affair with Rosslyn into the sort of package that might be handed on to others.
What in the world do I mean?
Good question. And if the answer were as good, as tidy and clear, I’d have wrapped up and ventured on to a new quest long ago. I haven’t. Not yet.
However I am feeling closer to clarity, closer to a tidy conclusion in recent years. Even recent months.
There’s much to unpack here (to borrow a euphemism from contemporary talking heads), and I’m doubling down on my resolve to package Rosslyn and pass her on. The property. The experience. The story.
It’s premature to say more now, but know that Susan and I have begun to wonder and daydream about a future in which Rosslyn has been fully fledged. It’s complicated. It’s bittersweet. And it’s still premature.
We’re not quite ready to say goodbye to her yet, far from it actually, so our leave-taking is not imminent. But it’s out there on the horizon, and together we’re brainstorming and beginning the process of letting go, of passing her on. Some day. Concurrently I’m revisiting the images and notes and sketches and letters and poems, allowing them to ferment and hopefully made a decent wine from a decade and a half of life and memories and artifacts.
Before my words wander too far afield, I will close this wayward reflection with my mulberry backstory.
A long, long time ago, at least four decades, maybe more, I first tasted mulberries at an auction. It was midsummer, just like now, and my family was attending an outdoor auction on an old farm that might or might not have been abandoned at the time. I don’t recall for certain, but I suspect the property had been vacant for a while.
I actually don’t remember much about the day except that I came across a grade school classmate who lived in the town nearby. She introduced me to mulberries.
A towering tree stood at the gabled end of an ancient barn, and the ground beneath was covered with fallen fruit. In short order we’d climbed up into the branches to feast on ripe mulberries. We spent the rest of the afternoon high in the mulberry tree savoring (to the point of achy stomachs) the jammy black mulberry deliciousness. With the auctioneer’s singsong soundtrack and enough mulberries to bloat our bellies and stain our clothes, the hours melted deliciously into the sort of nostalgic motherlode that still brings me contentment in midlife.
My decision to plant mulberry trees at Rosslyn half a lifetime later was rooted in that sweet syrupy memory.
Recent nights are feeling more September than August, and even some of the days. Dry heat (trending cooler) during the daytime, and crisp-to-chilly at night. This bodes well for apples, pears, grapes,… And so my mind is in the orchard.
Orchard Harvests (Source: Geo Davis)
Holistic orcharding has forged a gradual, intimate familiarity with my trees and with their habits. Harvest time offers confirmation and encouragement, but also occasional frustration and puzzlement. A bountiful harvest. A meager harvest. Coloration. Flavor. Texture. Orcharding and gardening hone appreciation for seasonality, serving is delightful reminders to remain humble and grateful, but also to aspire and stretch and explore. I am struck by the fact that no to harvest are identical. We cannot map one growing season onto another without blurring the picture.
Orchard Harvests Haiku
Orcharding seasons overlaid year upon year, harvests offset, fugue. — Geo Davis
It’s Tanglefoot time again. Actually, we’re late — really late! — due to this rainy, soggy summer. But better late than never, especially since I’ve begun to spy the first tent caterpillars of the 2017 season.
First a quick refresher. A little over a year ago I explained how to use Tanglefoot and I explained why holistic orcharding benefits from this goopy ritual.
It’s a messy installation process, but it seems to work pretty well… Applying Tanglefoot to fruit trees a messy but relatively straightforward task. Better instructors have already explained application, so I’ll defer to their able guidance rather than overlook something important. (Source: How to Use Tanglefoot (And Why Fruit Trees Need It))
That post includes the excellent advice of “better instructors”, but I wanted to follow up with a quick visual instructional to show you how to apply Tanglefoot. Consider it a supplement. Quick tips.
How to Apply Tanglefoot
In the previous post I discuss using plastic film to wrap the tree trunk, but four years into our Tanglefoot adventure, we’re still using paper/cardboard wraps.
Following is a quick video / slide show intended for orchardists, fruit tree hobbyists, or basically anybody who wants quick and easy instruction for how to apply Tanglefoot on young (i.e. slender trunk) trees. Many thanks to Jacob for letting me photograph his hands during installation.
I hope you find the video helpful. We’ve been extremely satisfied with the results year-after-year, and we’re happy to recommend Tanglefoot (and confident in our recommendation) for other fruit tree growers. Good luck!
