When It Comes To Growing Apricots...I Really Don't Know What I'm Doing

 The elusive apricot...don't understand the trees.

Then again, I don't understand most fruit trees (among other things...).

It's unusual for us to get a lot of apricots. They're a fickle plant. Most years, our trees haven't done that well, mostly because of a late frost. This year, however, our young tree is exploding with fruit.

And I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do.

My neighbor says I should remove almost all the fruit on the tree so that only a few apricots remain on each branch. I thought I'd try out his system. I picked an especially packed branch and went to work. I took maybe twenty apricots off the tree and surveyed my work. To be honest, I didn't see much difference. I wanted to do more, but it pained me to keep taking off fruit. There's something depressing about it, especially since we get so few crops. Still, I suppose you've got to sacrifice few for the sake of the many (which is strange because when you're done, you have fewer than before...).

I know I could do an internet search and find other methods. When I've tried that in the past, it's confused me...so many different ways of doing things.

Since we only have only one apricot tree, I'm not worrying too much over this. I might do a little more thinning between now and harvest time. Then again, I might leave the tree alone and let wind and chance determine how many we'll get to enjoy.

Bumper Crop...? Maybe, Hopefully

 I'm not a farmer, at least, I've never been called a farmer, even though technically, we have grown stuff. We've planted some fruit trees since we've moved here. One tree species that stumps me (pun, intended...) is the elusive apricot tree.

It is, in a word, fickle.

I never know if we'll ever get a crop.

Like I said, not a farmer.

I do know that if there's a late frost, the apricot trees seem to get hit the hardest. This year, our little tree seems to be blowing up with fruit, so much so, we need to thin the fruit. If we do, it looks like we'll get a decent crop this year.

One danger we continually face--or, the tree continually faces--is wind. We could power our house with the winds we get up here. Wind is bittersweet. It cleans the air, but also makes it tough in other ways. Never say never, but I believe the threat of a late freeze is over, so it's keeping the tree watered and hoping the wind doesn't destroy all the fruit.

I'll keep you posted.

The First Tree...First Of Many, Hopefully

 We weren't looking for fruit trees to put in the yard--it's still a little early. We don't even have a sprinkling system installed, but we saw the tree and snagged it. A few days later, we dug a hole and stuck it in the ground.

Tree Number 1.

In a tree-less yard.

Back before 1847 the valley in which we live was uninhabited. That summer Mormons entered the valley and set up shop. It was part of Mexico back then and had the valley been more appealing, it might have already been occupied. But, because no one else wanted it, it was available. I haven't done a lot of research about the area before the Mormons arrived, but I have heard that the people who first saw the valley said there were no trees...tree-less.

On the hill where we moved, there's not a lot of trees...kind of how it looked almost two-hundred years ago. One of the first things we planted at our old home were fruit trees. We're hoping to do the same here. We started with an apricot tree. We'll be looking for other fruit trees--those that do well in our climate. When we're done we plan on having a little orchard, like we had before.

It's just one tree. We'll have to water it by hand until the sprinklers are installed and we're glad to do it. It's strange living in an area where trees are few and far between. Maybe in the coming years, the little hill will have many trees. That's the goal.

A Crooked Tree...

This morning, as I took a morning walk around the yard with my dog (she and I needed to be outside for totally different reasons...), I noticed our lone apricot tree. It's on the northeast corner of our strange-shaped lot, and it's crooked.

I remember hearing a story from about a man who planted a tree in his yard that grew crooked. If I recall the story correctly, he thought he could put a brace up and right the tree, but when he went to do it, even thought the tree did not look that sturdy, he found it did not want to grow the way he wanted. The morale of the story was to take action early in the growing process. Because if we are allowed to bend to the wills of outside influences, we may not grow straight and true.

I understand the lesson and even agree to the points. But something about it bugs me. When I look at my tree, I see something formed by its circumstances. The reason it bends is due to to the incredible east winds we have living on the side of a mountain.

You can't see it in the picture, but the base of the tree is scarred as if it was scratched by an animal, or nibbled away by a deer. It's amazing it's survived, to be honest. When I look at the tree, I see the tree's history. I see strength. I see a will to live, even with the elements seemingly conspiring against it. I see a little bit of myself in it--scarred by life.

I suppose, if I followed the advice of storytellers and arborists, I should take action--should have taken action years ago to make sure the tree has the best chance of surviving. I wonder if it is allowed to mature for years to come, will it tip over? I don't know. Across the street there's an apricot tree that's been there more than fifty-two years, longer than I've been alive. I wonder if our little tree will outlive my family.

Time will tell.