Coming to the farm opened my eyes to a lot of things I never considered. First and foremost is the number of plants and animals that are in literal danger of extinction. I've tried to play a small part in helping them survive to the next generation, whether it is by planting heirloom tomatoes and saving the seeds in our market garden, or breeding heritage livestock like our registered Dexter cattle and pedigreed Silver Fox rabbits. (There are actually more Giant Pandas estimated to be alive today than these rabbits. I consider it a pretty big deal as well as great responsibility to have obtained several unrelated bloodlines!)
One sad and unbelievable fact is that we only have about 10% of the apple varieties grown in the United States that were available when George Washington was alive. Only one out of every 10 still exists. How sad is that?!? Apples are unlike tomatoes or peppers- if you plant the seed from an apple, it will not be like its parent tree. Even each seed in the same apple will produce a completely different tree and fruit. While it's true Johnny Appleseed planted seeds and not clones, at that time folks wanted apples primarily for fermenting into hard cider rather than ones that were delicious to eat. Apples (and many other fruits) are cloned by cutting branches and rooting them or, more commonly, grafting onto disease-resistant and/or dwarfing rootstock. They can survive as long as there is at least one tree, and one person with the desire and knowledge to make seedings from that tree to plant for the future.
For years, I've talked and dreamed about an orchard made from cuttings from old, local trees.
One sad and unbelievable fact is that we only have about 10% of the apple varieties grown in the United States that were available when George Washington was alive. Only one out of every 10 still exists. How sad is that?!? Apples are unlike tomatoes or peppers- if you plant the seed from an apple, it will not be like its parent tree. Even each seed in the same apple will produce a completely different tree and fruit. While it's true Johnny Appleseed planted seeds and not clones, at that time folks wanted apples primarily for fermenting into hard cider rather than ones that were delicious to eat. Apples (and many other fruits) are cloned by cutting branches and rooting them or, more commonly, grafting onto disease-resistant and/or dwarfing rootstock. They can survive as long as there is at least one tree, and one person with the desire and knowledge to make seedings from that tree to plant for the future.
For years, I've talked and dreamed about an orchard made from cuttings from old, local trees.
These trees are survivors who outlived the homestead or the orchardkeepers that planted them. They are ideally suited to our climate and pests, as they are the old souls who've seen 100 or so years. It takes 6” or so cuttings from branch tips, so the process won't even hurt the original tree. (Most could use much more pruning!) There are lots of these trees in our area- on PA State Game Lands, the Allegheny National Forest, places owned by timber companies who allow their land to be treated like the national forest, camps, homes. The downside is that, even with a landowner who you talk to for permission, in many or most cases, the variety of apple has been lost to time. You can propagate it and save it, but there's no telling if it's a rare variety or something common until you see apples, if you can even ever figure it out. Cuttings need to be taken in early spring before there are leaves, so it's a tough time to get any other info unless you've been scoping it out since at least the last fall. And in many cases, apples from an old tree in need of pruning (or so hollow that it is a wonder it still stands) won't give you a true idea of what the apples from a young, healthy, well-cared-for tree can produce.
This year, I'm finally giving it a go. I reconnected with an old friend. We played at her grandparents' place as kids, and although he is gone and she is no longer able to live there, we were able to visit the old homestead. The old Northern Spy has fallen over, but is still sending out new growth. The other is a russet, although we don't know any more than that. There were a few others, known mostly for feeding the deer, but I couldn't find good new growth without a ladder. Still, I had a dozen or so cuttings from the other two.
Armed with this generosity (along with an entire Jeep full of canning jars, old cookbooks, and other treasures) I went home to my new, expanded seed starting greenhouse. I dipped the cuttings in root hormone, put them in potting soil, and tried to give off positive energy as I did so. Hopefully, with moisture and time, they will root and send off leaves and be tiny clones of the parent tree, able to survive to greet future generations. Apples will be years off. These trees will not be small as I didn't attempt to graft the cuttings to rootstock; hopefully this does not deprive them of necessary disease resistance too, but only time will tell. It's an experiment that certainly has a chance to fail in many ways, but I feel blessed to have started the experiment out with not only information about the pedigree of the parent trees but also love, goodwill, and the joy that comes with reconnection.
If nothing else, I started my heirloom apple journey last year with heirloom Akin apple trees, already started and grafted onto semi-dwarf rootstock, from Seed Saver's Exchange. While I hope to be on my way to realizing my dream of a motley collection of local cuttings, I've taken the first steps, which are always the most intimidating. Thank you, Allison, for giving me the needed kick in the butt to take some cuttings and try this year. The worst that can happen is that we had fun but haven't figured out all that we need to do to turn that into trees. But there's also a very real possibility that we will make something out of a cutting. With the right care, it will thrive and bloom and provide us with apples.
There's a quote of uncertain origin that says “A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know they shall never sit.” I know all too well that there is no guarantee about living to be “old”. But I do know, with any luck, these trees will live to be just that and will greet people long after I return to the earth. And it is my hope they are greeted with delicious apples.
This year, I'm finally giving it a go. I reconnected with an old friend. We played at her grandparents' place as kids, and although he is gone and she is no longer able to live there, we were able to visit the old homestead. The old Northern Spy has fallen over, but is still sending out new growth. The other is a russet, although we don't know any more than that. There were a few others, known mostly for feeding the deer, but I couldn't find good new growth without a ladder. Still, I had a dozen or so cuttings from the other two.
Armed with this generosity (along with an entire Jeep full of canning jars, old cookbooks, and other treasures) I went home to my new, expanded seed starting greenhouse. I dipped the cuttings in root hormone, put them in potting soil, and tried to give off positive energy as I did so. Hopefully, with moisture and time, they will root and send off leaves and be tiny clones of the parent tree, able to survive to greet future generations. Apples will be years off. These trees will not be small as I didn't attempt to graft the cuttings to rootstock; hopefully this does not deprive them of necessary disease resistance too, but only time will tell. It's an experiment that certainly has a chance to fail in many ways, but I feel blessed to have started the experiment out with not only information about the pedigree of the parent trees but also love, goodwill, and the joy that comes with reconnection.
If nothing else, I started my heirloom apple journey last year with heirloom Akin apple trees, already started and grafted onto semi-dwarf rootstock, from Seed Saver's Exchange. While I hope to be on my way to realizing my dream of a motley collection of local cuttings, I've taken the first steps, which are always the most intimidating. Thank you, Allison, for giving me the needed kick in the butt to take some cuttings and try this year. The worst that can happen is that we had fun but haven't figured out all that we need to do to turn that into trees. But there's also a very real possibility that we will make something out of a cutting. With the right care, it will thrive and bloom and provide us with apples.
There's a quote of uncertain origin that says “A society grows great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know they shall never sit.” I know all too well that there is no guarantee about living to be “old”. But I do know, with any luck, these trees will live to be just that and will greet people long after I return to the earth. And it is my hope they are greeted with delicious apples.