Politics is rapidly losing its sparkle for me. The pish-level has become too high perhaps, and there's nothing to grab onto and shake but for whatever reason, my attention has wandered. Into the garden. Or more specifically, into the nursery. I'm gripped by a passion to produce trees. Not native trees - I've been through that phase several times before and have raised hundreds of rakau tuturu that grow now in pockets around the town, including up and down the creek that runs through my garden. This time it's fruit and nut trees. Not apples mind. We've grafted hundreds, perhaps thousands of those already and the beds are full of last season's Merton Russets and Renette de Canada, and the season has moved past time for grafting. It's nuts for me; hazels and sweet chestnuts that I poked into boxes of compost in the autumn, and are now sending up their shoots and down their roots. Stone fruits too; peaches and apricots, plums and nectarines. They are all bursting out now and need to be potted-up quickly before their tap root gets so long they won't fit into the pot. I'm potting as fast as I can go, in the belief that if I have an abundance of fruit trees, they will be planted out by someone, somewhere and once they are, will produce fruit for decades. And that fruit will be eaten by people (the kereru will get their share too, I know for certain, but that's a good thing too.) I'm feeling very pleased with myself, for having had the foresight to get those pits, stones and nuts into the soil 6 months ago. If I hadn't, I'd have had little to work with now, though I did cheat a little, having spotted a score of plum seedlings growing in a mound of soil underneath a tree that I walk past on my way into the village. It's a cherry-plum that bears yellow fruits in profusion and I'm banking on it's progeny being as generous. Underpinning this flurry of activity, is my plan to fruit-up the town and plant extensive, 'open' orchards up and down the roads and streets, alongside of the estuary - anywhere I can find where fruit trees will grow untroubled and still be accessed by Rivertonians desirous of fruit.
Enough chatter now. I've fruit trees to attend to.
6 comments:
My paternal grandmother's family were largely market gardeners in rural England from the early 19C. They were until the 1960s, and as a child I remember the graftings and the picking, and the russets and Bramleys and the Pearmains etc, many of which are no longer commercally available but kept alive by people like you.
I'm gripped by the same feeling Rob, though propagation in all its wonder. Nothing compares! I was a bit slow on the chestnuts from Ngatimoti though they're going in today, along with many rows of Robinia, Siberian pea trees and those little acorns from Riverside. Arbutus, elderberry and ugni softwood cuttings under mist do thrive, and most excitingly is the appearance of the sea buckthorn!
Robert - being part of that particular thread in the tapestry of life is more valuable than is generally realised, as only those who have been, can know. It explains, in part, the clear world-view you obviously possess :-)
Nick - it's the season! Your chestnuts are indeed late - mine went in when I got back from up north and they're 10cm high now. I hope yours flourish - if not, I've spares. Your Siberian peas are no doubt fully allocated, as I know there's interest, but if you had one to trade... the albizzia from Portobello are coming up with rude vigour and I'm pricking those out too. You've beaten me to the soft-woods - I'll start today (after consulting my moon calendar :-)
Division time has passed, kind-of, but I multiplied (?!) a lot of things, especially Guelder rose and blueberry. Mostly now though, it's annual vegetables; corn, seabeet, ocra and so on. Peas all around in the open ground and carrots yesterday. Lovely time of the year. I've silver buffalo berry cuttings tucked away in one of my gardens and I'd forgotten about them til now - must go check on their progress. My NZ cranberries are away laughing too. I'll be planting them out soon.
Go crazy with the multiplicity!
Politics is rapidly losing its sparkle for me. The pish-level has become too high perhaps, and there's nothing to grab onto and shake but for whatever reason, my attention has wandered.
Oh thank goodness for that! you were starting to worry me.
Wory knot, Shunda!
Man of the soil, me.
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