Country roads

Dedication
Books don’t get peach leaf curl. Dog ears yes, but no peach leaf curl. That’s why spring, for me, is a melancholy time, with the closure of opportunity to sit by the fire, during long winter evenings, reading a good book. More often, having been introduced to the Kindle some years ago by my children, I can enjoy reading even without dog ears, just the occasional: “Time to recharge your battery” message.
If there were only a way to recharge the battery in me, everything would be better, less melancholy. I must utilize the inspiration my reading can afford to do just that. I read the history of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) by Simon Winchester. The full title is “The Meaning of Everything: The Story of the Oxford English Dictionary.” Hundreds of people devoted thousands of hours perusing books, articles, anything recorded back to and before Beowulf, submitting words and quotations to the organizers of the dictionary. Workers lived and died devoted to this amazing gathering of words. The individual who, perhaps more than any other, was ultimately responsible for organizing this incredible endeavor was James Murray. He gave more than 60 years of his life to the OED and died before its completion. There’s inspiration for us.
Charles Dickens, in my opinion the best fiction writer who ever lived (1812 to 1870) during that same era scratched out (no keyboards nor spell check) 17 novels besides yearly short Christmas stories. What dedication to purpose.
All I have to do is get my garden hat on, place one foot in front of the other and approach the peach trees. Nobody’s waiting for the next book to be published or the next letter to be completed for the OED. This is simple!
So was spraying the trees to prevent peach leaf curl, which I ignored and only did once instead of the standard three. With all the lovely rain, the unlovely curl was uncorked. There is no remedy for this situation except to remove each damaged leaf and await the regrowth of new leaves. If the tree has had fertilizer in its near past, it doesn’t need any further assistance to put forth additional leaves. However, if it has expended all its nutrients in its first set and that set has been hit with leaf curl, a new application of fertilizer would be helpful.
A mixture of kelp and fish emulsion can be applied for organically raised trees; Triple Sixteen (16-16-16) for standard practice.
The disheartening part of orchards is that the early leaves were lush and prolific, thanks to the amount of rain we received. The blossoms were equally plentiful and strong. Now, curl has emaciated the healthy leaves and threatens the small fruit. Each fruit requires the support of seven healthy leaves in order to grow and size up. Stripping off each curled leaf is the task of the day today, and probably tomorrow, and tomorrow again. Sigh.
Next year I won’t kick that spraying can down the road. I have learned my lesson. I feel terrible. I know exactly how Charlie Brown feels when it’s all his fault.
Plants are very like children; mute children. Their needs are great but they can’t tell you what it is they need. It’s up to the gardener to be curious, investigate and act. With proper care, which includes water, food, protection and some degree of luck, they will prosper and produce, most likely fulfilling their predictable years planted on this earth.
However, in as much as the caregiver/gardener does or doesn’t do his/her share, the plant and its produce will thrive or diminish. Here is where melancholy clouds the spring sun. Ahead of the gardener is the providing of weed control, water supply, limb support, fruit thinning, fruit harvest, pest protection and any unexpected atmospheric surprise, like hail, wind or excessive heat.
All of this is nothing compared with the monumental task the wordsmiths of the 1800s were facing together. Imagine putting months, even years, to accumulating all the English words, with their many diverse meanings using direct quotations, and their origins and pronunciations, celebrating the completion of just the single letter “A.”
Renee Kiff weeds and writes at her family farm in Alexander Valley.