A couple of years ago I was walking beside the River Orwell in Suffolk and among all the oaks and horse chestnuts we came across an elderly cherry plum tree, bows bent low with ripe fruit. We gorged ourselves and filled our pockets with cherry plums to take home. This single tree made the walk memorable for everybody and had me dreaming of creating “edible walks” all over the island of Mallorca.
One of my favourite folk tales is The Man Who Planted Trees (http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Man-Who-Planted-Trees/dp/1860461174/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1372007391&sr=8-1&keywords=The+man+who+planted+trees ) I’ve read it innumerable times as a bedtime story to the kids. It contains a simple altruism which appeals to something deep within me, but whereas the protagonist plants oaks and beech trees, in my head it is pears, dates, avocados (above: the result of some avocado stone planting in my garden) and loquats.
Last week I saw an article about Seattle’s edible forest. This has been planted in the middle of the city for any of its residents to eat from. It’s self-sustaining and offers a myriad of fruit trees, herbs, vegetables, nuts and berries.
Since being given Amerigo’s apple tree (see last post) which he grew from a pip, I’ve developed a “stick-it-in-a-pot-and-see” fetish. So far this has resulted in some spindly papaya seedlings from a Mercadona fruit (pictured below), a goodly number of avocado trees, a loquat (and I only planted two seeds in yoghurt pots, so next year I’ll plant more) and many mini-date palms – which so far have not been attacked by the dreaded red beetle.
As I have run out of space in my garden, many of my experiments are being surreptitiously planted on walks I take with the dog. Once each one has been dug in, it is given the contents of my water bottle and an earnest prayer that one day it will give fruit to a future family, making their day memorable in the way that the cherry plum tree did for us.