On Saturday, in the light rain, I began the job. There was thunder and lightning as I finished, sheltering in the small greenhouse and feeling the glass shake and vibrate with the thunder overhead. But I had managed to cut out most of the dry canes from this summer's raspberries that grow in the shade of our eating apples, kneeling on the damp grass of the path to reach into the thicket.
Raspberries give me hope for harvest. Next summer's canes are already growing green and tall. In similar fashion, it was time to tackle the tayberries, disentangling their long dead runners from the new shoots and cutting them out. Propping next year's floppy growth over the ramshackle supports to tie in later.
And the big job that I had tried to avoid. The wild blackberry, cousin to the tayberry, that sent its branches up into the apple tree. The right place for blackberries is along the hedge on the other plot where we can keep them under control. A methodical cutting out of sections, branch by branch down to the root until it was all down and in the brown recycling bin. Now I can see my tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment