Some people go to incredible lengths to protect their fig trees over the winter. They wrap it in burlap or blankets and dump leaves inside. They dig a hole next to it, tip the tree over and bury it sideways till spring. They mummify it in an old bed sheet or cover it with a plastic bucket.
Sounds like a lot of work to this lazy gardener. I'd hoped to bypass all these crazy rituals by buying a Chicago Hardy fig, which supposedly can tolerate a cold Northern winter, especially if it's planted in a protected area of the yard or garden.
So I bought one last year but was chagrined, when it arrived, to realize that it was only a few inches tall. Gee, it looked so big in the catalogue! I planted it that spring in the middle of the garden, thinking it would grow tall and wide, flourishing in the southern exposure and eventually towering over all my perennials. Wouldn't that be a terrific focal point? There are no leaves like fig leaves.
Then the oops factor set in. I do this more than I'd like ... the fig tree started to grow but then, so did everything around it until it was dwarfed and then obscured. One day, while rooting around in there, I discovered the little fig. I'd forgotten all about it. Amazingly, it was still alive, which is about the best thing I can say about it.
After much thought, I transplanted it to a corner of the garden that has the same warm exposure and a wall behind it to retain the sun's heat. And there it's been, through last winter, this spring and summer, and now fall.
It's a good size, at last, maybe 18 inches. Leaves are nice and green. I think it likes the sun and warmth of the wall. It has an azalea in front of it, which probably helps protect it, too. No figs yet. I'm hoping for next year.
Every time I do something dumb like this, I think to myself: This is a teachable moment. I need to think more about what a plant will look like as it grows, yes, but also what the plants around it will be doing. Think a season or two (or three) down the road.
And while that lesson is sinking in, let's have a toast: to a balmy winter!
Comments (2)
Ginny, you brought up such a strong childhood memory for me: Wrapping the fig trees every year. We did it on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Tarps, burlap and those plastic, felt-lined table cloths. For some reason we had the same lengths of rope every year, which made it tough to tie the tarps. Why we didn't get new rope is beyond me. The other necessary ingredient of this yearly ritual: The arguments (in early years, yelling in Italian by my grandmother), about exactly how to wrap them, with what, in what order. . .
Over the years, we had fewer and fewer figs on these trees, which grew from slips brought from Italy. Each time we'd eat the first fig, my mother would instruct us to, "Say a prayer for Pop-Pop" when we bit into the sweet flesh.
Posted by Theresa | October 30, 2007 9:45 AM
Posted on October 30, 2007 09:45
Hi Ginny, I got a kick out of this. Have been trying to figure out when to "bundle" an East Falls clients' fig before winter's freeze. Still seems too warm as we don't want the tree to be so cozy it'll shoot new spring growth - before February. This is an 7, 8-year-old tree over 8 feet tall, 6 feet wide.
It started indoors as a wee slip about 5, 6 years ago. The client wanted this to thrive in her yard; it was rooted from a Philadelphia friend's fig. I was doubtful. We planted it with all good vibes possible in one of the few sunny spots in her backyard. This summer she picked more than 50 delicious figs (I can't speak first hand but my assistant enjoyed).
In a few weeks (?), we'll have to get out the ladder and round up the Remay, burlap, string, stakes, stapler, and oak leaves - and put this monster fig to bed. Client says it's worth all the fuss. Don't 'cha love happy endings?!
Posted by charlotte kidd | October 31, 2007 8:16 PM
Posted on October 31, 2007 20:16