Jaci Dawn

The weather cooperated in time for the annual pruning of the apple trees and the Hawthorne. I forgot to take “before” pictures of the apple trees, but, hey, “after” pictures work.

We purchased espalier apples in 2003 to use as a “fence” around the vegetable garden site. There are six varieties on each tree, some do better than others, and we always have more apples than we can use. I think of investing in a cider press off and on: we could make a lot of vinegar, juice, and cider!

Certain varieties do better than others: the dominant apple (the base to the espalier) does best (yellow trasparent). But we still get a decent crop of Granny Smith and Red Delicious off these trees, and – maybe – someday we will figure out why the other three varieties struggle.  The fence around the apple trees is twofold: the dog can climb under the apple trees and get into the garden and the dog likes to pick apples off the tree (ripe or not ripe). Apples are not good for the dog (apple pips are poisonous). He still manages to get apples off the trees, which he then plays with as a cat would play with a mouse, until we take the apple from him and toss it into the yard debris bin.

Pruning takes place before the leaves unfurl and the blossoms swell. Then we hope there won’t be a late hard frost. It is all you can do.

The Hawthorne is a little more involved. Apples don’t have thorns. The apple trees are not over five feet tall.  That darn Hawthorne…

We didn’t buy the Hawthorne. We dug it out of the horse pasture when we gave my horses away (to a good home) and moved into town. It was all of three feet tall and had been run over by a Caterpillar multiple times and browsed by deer almost as often. It is a Native tree. And it absolutely loves its new location.

20 years after moving it, it stands over 10’ tall. It hosts birds and insects. We don’t allow it to blossom but if we did, it would host pollinators and produce berries (seeds). Pruning it is a several-day production that includes ladders, avoiding stepping on my peonies, and picking up anything the dog might later step on and puncture his footpad.

The dog has enough problems without thorns between his toes. And when I weed under the tree later in the season, I have enough trouble without a sharp one-inch thorn piercing my gloves.

Also, I don’t do any of this work. I take pictures and sometimes pick up the stray thorny branches my husband misses. My husband is proprietary about the apple trees and I wouldn’t touch pruning that Hawthorne with a ten-foot pruning hook. Nope, nope, nope. Not I.

What ensues is a bit of a photo documentary of the pruning on one native Hawthorne tree in our back yard, including some dangerously slanted ladders on the mound of earth where we decided to put said Hawthorne.