When we first moved here, I was so convinced that there was no space for a ‘real’ garden that I gave my potted lemon tree to friends who had a bigger garden. We had come from a rambling homestead on a country acre and I couldn’t imagine how I would ever fit a lemon tree on this small suburban block. It took me a while to see the folly of my thoughts and to buy a new lemon tree and plant it in the corner, where it is now so very abundant.
At times, there are lemons scattered across the lawn. I pick them up, bring them inside and add them to the overflowing bowl on the kitchen bench. I squeeze lemons and freeze the juice. I insist visitors take lemons. I put a box out the front so walkers to help themselves as they pass heading to the lake to walk their dogs.
With the lemon doing so well in the corner, I began to play with ideas of exactly what I might be able to slip into various spots in the garden.
I decided I may as well plant a lime tree near the lemon. Enthused by the lemon and lime performing well in the relatively shady back yard, I planted two orange trees – a Valencia and a Navel. I added a pomegranate and then a passionfruit vine to clamber over the back fence. Then there is the mulberry I planted just outside the back gate, spreading its fruit-laden branches into the yard.
A neighbour gave me pot-bound lemon tree. I planted that one on the front verge, nestled alongside the native shrubs where gets good water and afternoon sun and passers-by can pick its fruit. I planted a Kalamata olive near the letterbox and a double-grafted plum by the side fence out the front, then two dwarf apples in among a hedge of rosemary in the front veggie garden and a grape vine against the side fence.
In all, over a dozen fruit trees in my small suburban garden! Then there are blueberries and strawberries in pots.
Most of the fruit trees in my garden aren’t prolific – except the lemon. They are wedged into less-than-ideal spots – without enough room to spread their branches and imperfect access to sunlight; they compete for water and light. They are not grown in the way that gardening books recommend for maximum production. But they do give some fruit – certainly more fruit that a purely ornamental garden would provide. In no way do they provide all of our fruit; not even a significant percentage of it. But they give something else, something that I find perfectly alluring – a taste of the seasons. Now, in the middle of winter, the pomegranates hang like Christmas baubles and, if I don’t pick them quickly enough, they split and drop their tart deliciousness onto the ground. (The Labrador appreciates it.) The oranges are falling from the trees. The lemons are coming along, and I’m trying to beat the parrots to the apples.
I was wrong when I thought this small suburban block didn’t have room for a lemon tree. Having found that spot for one opened the way for a dozen fruit trees and, as I look around the garden now, I can see places where I could slip in another. And possibly another.
Thanks for reading,
Jill