Father’s Day at Apple Trace

Life is always transitioning, renewing, and yearning to proliferate. But sometimes things get in the way. A Father’s Day visit to Apple Trace reminds me that life needs care and cultivation. We need to be our own gardeners. On this day of fathers and sons, I am contemplating life and legacy as I bend and stoop and struggle to pull the tough weeds that have engulfed the trees in my care.  

Apple Trace at Restoration Farm is a living memorial of eight heritage apple trees, planted in 2012 in memory of my Dad, James M. Barritt, Jr. who passed in January of that year. A ‘trace” is a defined as a visible mark, such as a footprint, left by a person, animal or thing. We all leave a visible mark, and the trees remind me of the mark my Dad left in this world. 

The weeds are formidable. The trunk of each tree is surrounded by thick growth. Weeds will get in our way, but life needs to be weeded and cultivated. The dirt needs to be tilled. Lack of action is not an option. It may seem like a chore, but weeding is healthy and leads to growth. 

We have always wondered when the first fruits of Apple Trace might appear. I discover one tiny apple, about the size of a silver dollar. It is an Ashmead’s Kernel apple, a very old variety. Sometimes good things start small. 

Four of the trees are towering, and four are smaller. Perhaps it’s the climate, or perhaps it’s the growth patterns of the different apple varieties. Everything grows at it’s own pace. Just have patience. Just give it time.  Two of the trees that were once damaged by a renegade cow a few seasons back are now vigorous and full. We do recover and thrive, even when the damage seems severe.  

I work diligently from one tree to the next. I am dirty and drenched with sweat, but the job is done. Weeds no longer choke the trees, the playful spring breeze circulates through the branches and the trees have room to grow. It bears remembering. Make room to grow. 

As I am stacking the weeds and debris at one end of Apple Trace, Restoration Farm head grower, Caroling Fanning arrives in the truck and offers me a ride back to the Tin House. I am grateful and hop in, because you should never be too proud to accept a ride from a friend no matter the journey you are on. 

©2016 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Winter’s Final Days at Restoration Farm

The rutted dirt road that leads down to the fields is still clogged with snow.   My right foot slides through some crusty ice into a chasm of cold, muddy water.   The waterproof shoes were a smart choice.  Winter seems reluctant to depart from Restoration Farm.

I reach the clearing that opens into the fields, and the scene changes.  

Hawks dance in the sky, a shockingly red cardinal shoots across the field, and a flock of robins – the very first robins I’ve seen in months – delight in their role as harbingers of spring.

Restoration Farm is brimming with wildlife. Donna Sinetar's chickens are having a lively conversation.

Far from the chickens, I spot a large red fox in the field adjacent to Apple Trace. He is too swift and wily for my camera to capture, but I see his large, plush tail bounding away towards the Manetto Hill Church on the other side of the field.

There is human activity as well. George and Zsofi are mulching, preparing the field for the inevitable transfer of young vegetable plants from the greenhouse.

Head grower Dan Holmes has revved up the tractor.

At Apple Trace, the row of eight heritage apple trees dedicated to my late father, it is pruning time.  

Late winter is considered the perfect time for pruning, to promote a strong limb structure.  The limbs are covered with buds.  

The trees are now two years old, and given the severity of the winter, they look quite healthy.   I prune carefully to shape each tree, and encourage that latent energy to flow into the outer limbs.  I carry away a bundle of twigs that are a tangible reminder of this living memorial.

Some man-made structures have sprung up as well. Perhaps less evocative, but no less important, a new storage and distribution center has been erected over the winter.  Dubbed “The Tin House” it will be a focal point of weekly vegetable distributions and the new Restoration Farm education and arts program. 

I leave you with a old and venerable proverb that seems to sum up winter’s waning days at Restoration Farm.  

“No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow.” 

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Pruning and Renewal At Apple Trace

When I was a youngster, my Dad had a set of electric hair clippers.   At a designated hour every month, my brothers and I would line up by a tall stool in the basement, and one by one, Dad would zip off our hair, clippers buzzing furiously. 

As a barber, Dad had a sure-handed and confident technique, and we’d emerge from the basement with perfectly trimmed buzz cuts.   Our closely cropped dos would be the envy of any young military recruit.  

I am far less confident of the outcome as I approach Apple Trace at Restoration Farm on one of the last days of winter, preparing to prune the line of young apple trees for the very first time.   The eight heritage apple trees were planted in memory of my father James M. Barritt, Jr. in the spring of 2012.  

Restoration Farm’s resident fruit tree expert, Glenn Aldridge tells me the window for late winter pruning is once a year, and it is just about closed.   The tree is dormant, and energy is stored in the root, so the pruning promotes new growth in the spring.  Even at an early age, pruning is important to influence the future growth and shape of a tree.   The goal of pruning is to expose the strongest branches of the tree to as much sun and air as possible.  

I am skeptical.  The trees look so fragile.  They are barely twigs, so how will they withstand a pruning?   

I’m not quite ready to make the first cut, so I stroll down a secluded path adjacent to the historic village to visit the old Hewlett Apple Orchard and see how the trees there have progressed.  Exactly a year ago, we began pruning those long neglected trees, and Glenn has been working the orchard throughout the winter.  Along the way, I am trailed by a small flock of Billy goats who follow me into the orchard.  

At the Hewlett Apple Orchard, the trees appear to be thriving.   None are the worse for the rigorous pruning we gave them last year.    They look strong, healthy, well-shaped and ready for spring.  

So, perhaps the fledgling trees of Apple Trace would hold up to a little pruning.  After all, I survived the once-monthly trauma of a buzz cut.   I return to Apple Trace with renewed determination.  

In discussing “intuitive pruning,” orchardist Michael Phillips says, “Approach each tree with an introductory intake of the breath.  This meditative pause is when you take in the tree’s framework and overall shape.  How does it fit within the row?  Are some branches too low?  Is the leader beyond reach?”  

I take a deep breath.  I walk around each little tree and examine it carefully.  Where are the odd, outlier branches?  Where do the branches grow together in a pleasing conical shape?   At last, I am ready to take the clippers in hand.  I’ve convinced myself that pruning will be beneficial, and a path to renewal for these beloved trees.   

As I examine each tree, and clip one branch at a time, I start to see the results.   The trees look cleaner, streamlined and shapelier.  Each is a different variety, and each has its own shape and character.  

As I clip each branch, I collect the twigs.   I’ll put them in a vase on the Easter dinner table as a reminder of Dad and his apple trees taking root at Restoration Farm.   Someday, should the pruning pay off, perhaps I’ll make an apple tart with the fruit from Apple Trace.  

As I bundle up the cuttings and prepare to leave, I notice a family of robins who have alighted on Chapel Field – a sure sign of the promise of the season ahead. 

Happy Easter!  Happy Spring!   

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Ferocious Weeds, Wandering Bovine and Healing at Apple Trace

Michael Phillips is an orchardist and author of the book “The Apple Grower:  A Guide for the Organic Orchardist,” first published in 1998.  In the introduction to the book, he writes about a low point in his life when a cider mill operation he’d been running had closed and the most of the apple trees cut down:

“Needless to say, I felt like I had lost part of my family.  And yet, it was an apple tree that eventually “spoke” to me at an herbal workshop I attended in Vermont.  Herbalists say every plant being has a spirit, of sorts, and so it is with trees.  My meditations that day focused in part on what to do next with my life.  I sat beneath a garden apple tree I had pruned for a friend earlier that spring.  Deep within a voice stirred.  You, too are pruned, apple grower, in order to become stronger.  Now this cut is open, dripping the sap of your visions and hopes.  It will heal, as all things do in time.  Afterward, you will be stronger to carry the harvest to come.”

The planting of Apple Trace at Restoration Farm – in memory of my father James M. Barritt Jr. – has been a source of healing for me.  The memorial took shape throughout the spring and summer, with a special plaque of living memory installed just before the Autumn Pot Luck.  Perhaps after loss, we do become stronger with a focus and a purpose.

Nurturing the eight heritage apple trees has helped move me from sadness to a place of happier memories and optimism for the growth of these trees at the farm.   “You, too are pruned, apple grower, in order to become stronger…It will heal, as all things do in time.  Afterward, you will be stronger to carry the harvest to come.” 

Throughout the summer, the weeds were often ferocious.   At one point, I returned from holiday to find the weeds so overgrown that I could barely find the saplings among the tangled growth.  

Bent on my knees weeding, I would think of my Dad, and how so often he had to weed, cultivate and nurture the little patch that was me.  He, too, probably had frustrations as he tugged at those weeds over the years, but I’m hopeful he was pleased with the end result.   

There have been bumps along the way as this fledging orchard has taken root.  Early in July, two of the cows from the historic village escaped from their pasture, and wandered all the way up to Apple Trace damaging two of the trees.   I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.   Of the problems I’d anticipated, cow thrashing was not one of them.  The upper third of the Winesap was cut off and the more slender Prairie Spy was nearly toppled.    But, one of the volunteers, Jen Wang trimmed back the Winesap and my friend George Garbarani staked up the Praire Spy.   Then we waited.   The trees have shown amazing resiliency – much like my Dad always did during more than eight decades of his life.   The Winesap has now filled out nicely, and although once almost bare, the Prairie Spy has now sprouted many fresh new leaves at its base.  This little tree is clearly a survivor.  

As autumn arrived, it was time to mulch around the base of the trees.  Mulching protects the roots and deters the growth of weeds.   The gentleman who provides the farm with wood chips left mountains of mulch in between the trees.   It seemed like an insurmountable task. 

Still, I kept pushing ahead, one scoop of mulch at a time.   And, one afternoon when I had almost given up for the day, Glenn, George, Jen and Jay arrived in the truck with shovels and support.   Within no time, the trees were well-blanketed with mulch.   A job is always easier, and more fun, when the community pitches in. 

I’m a bit concerned about the Honeycrisp, which looks quite bare, but Caroline wonders if perhaps it just concluded its growth season a little earlier than the other trees.   The remaining trees are thriving, and the Newtown Pippin and Ashmead’s Kernel are at least as tall as I am. 

My Mom and I had a chance to walk along Apple Trace as the sun was setting during the Autumn Pot Luck.   The trees were bathed in a golden light and I was encouraged that the harvest to come will be fruitful.  It made me smile, and I think Dad is smiling, too.  

©2012 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved