Wednesday 24 July 2013

Thinning the apple trees

I am sticking to my resolution to blog more often and find that this helps me to reflect upon what I do.  Here's today's allotment activity.

This morning on the first occasion since planting it I thinned our Bramley cooking apple tree.  Most years I have resigned myself to its biennial bearing habit - loaded with apples one year, about half a dozen the next.  This year looked like a bumper year...

Apple trees do drop premature fruit in June, most years, depending on weather conditions.  This is not usually serious.  We had a good spring (for apples) and our Bramley still had between three and four apples on each twig.  Serious experts would have left one apple: I left two.

Over the course of time since dropping paid teaching, some things have fallen out of my life.  It's natural.  The challenge is to walk around the tree and deliberate upon what fruit needs to be thinned.  Next visit I will start on its companion the Grenadier.

Tuesday 23 July 2013

The case of the disappearing caterpillar

This year the nettles that grow in front of the 'wildlife hedge' have been food for the caterpillars of the Small Tortoiseshell butterfly (Aglais urticae) - the clue to their identity is found in their Latin name. 

I confirmed this observation by consulting a small reference book which informed me that nettles are their food plant (tick), eggs are laid severally at a time (tick); and the caterpillars live in a web. (tick).  It was a large, dark, slow moving, pulsating web which devoured the nettles from top to bottom. 

Now the small tortoiseshell caterpillars have all disappeared.  As they grew, they shed their skins stage by stage until it was time to pupate.  Where have they gone?  My compact reference book does not tell me.  I hope they are somewhere safe in the soil, awaiting metamorphosis.  The only evidence that they were ever there is their discarded skins, empty and stiff, heads up, front feet in the air, hind feet secured to the skeletal and denuded nettles. 

Monday 22 July 2013

Whispering Grass

A contemporary theme in the world of garden design is 'naturalistic planting'.  After visiting the site in late July I submit the following:

This year, use meadow grass on your allotment for maximum effect.  You need not travel to the former Olympic Park - this effective landscaping feature can be yours at minimal cost.

Figure 1. Unused allotment plot - one year - naturalistic meadow grass threaded with seeding purple onion heads.

Figure 2.  Unused allotment plot - two to three years, grass as above spaced with teasel heads (suitable for birds) and thistles.

Figure 3.  Unused allotment plot - three to five years - grass waves through an underplanting of brambles (suitable for birds, fox clubs and small tortoiseshell butterflies) complemented by a selection of thistles.  Featured tree - common ash (Fraxinus). 

All plants and trees are self-seeding/self-reproducing and available free of charge.  Achieve the look now, without lifting a finger and hear your neighbours comment.








Friday 19 July 2013

Heat Stresses

It all looked simple on my lesson plan.  Sow Giant Winter Spinach (18th June 2013) in fertile soil.  We sowed the spinach.  My friend and I anticipated a late autumn harvest.

Unfortunately this Tuesday I had to draw her attention to it.  The spinach, struggling with the heat, had opted to flower.  It was at best three inches high and ready to reproduce and die. 

So now we sit out the hot spell, watering in the cool of the evening.  Our broccoli is also ready to harvest, far too early; our cauliflowers gave up the ghost, our ruby chard seedlings are hanging on...

Meanwhile the stuff we nursed through the cold spell - the marrows we put in a sheltered bed, the kale that will survive extremes, the squashes we planted in an old open-sided compost area are now romping away.  Outdoor tomatoes begin to flower, our apple trees are laden (at present), blackcurrants are magnificent, indoor and outdoor grapes show promise. 

I wonder if it will go on like this - devoting more and more meticulous attention, where we can, to plots and patches where we can protect against cold and heat.  Decisions.  We cannot water everything.  Raspberries have gone dry, tayberries are getting stressed.  We are not able to rescue all, but we can select. This may become our life's pattern.  Meanwhile, with the patience of the farmer, we once again consider when to re-sow.