2025 has been a very good year for the garden, probably the best ever in terms of the amount of food grown and gathered. We had so many plums that they couldn’t all get picked and used before the wasps or some other rot got them. I think these ones are well past their best though. Taken during today’s job — pruning the tree, so it can produce more fruit in 2026, we hope.
There have been a couple of exceptions — namely 2018, when I was in Germany, and 2021 on St Helena (and in 2019 I was about to go to Indonesia but not quite yet on my way) — but the 22nd November is not usually a date on which much happens. I find this a depressing, enervating time of year to be honest. Everything’s in decline yet we are still weeks from the turnaround point at the solstice. This rose hip (and feel free to correct me if I’ve got the botany wrong) is still putting in an effort, I guess, but most of the rest of nature has kinda given up. I know how it feels.
Two decades of working the allotment has proven that fruit is so much easier to handle than vegetables. The plums and the various berries (black, blue, josta, logan) have all been and gone. But here is just a small portion of the last crop of the year. Anyone want some apples? We will have too many.
This was the product of less than an hour’s labour in the garden this morning, and there’s plenty more still up there. I know, global warming, climate change and all that, but I doubt a medieval peasant farmer would have complained about the weather round here in 2025. This has been, without a doubt, the most productive year since we acquired the allotment, thus in more than 20 years.
As it is my birthday tomorrow, with this picture I also reach 14 full years of photographs that document my doings on a daily basis. Meaning, as of today, this blog encompasses exactly one quarter of my life. There have been some times when I have felt the creativity waning, not just on particular, less interesting days but in a broader sense. But there were times like that back in 2014, or 2020, or whatever, just as there sometimes still are now. For now, I will do my best to keep it up.
A rapid return to the theme of purpling plums, but as is often the case in August, we seem to have a lot of them. The pears come from elsewhere than our garden but further ripening is still required.
Time for the annual update on the plum tree, which shed one of its limbs a couple of weeks ago, though we did save most of the fruit, currently ripening (but obviously not still growing) on windowsills at home. Had I not made efforts to prop up this big branch it would also, surely, have fallen by now, but those efforts seem to have been successful. There are a lot of insects around this year, so we are in a war of attrition as to who gets the bounty first, but we’re working on it.
Fairly warm and dry the weather has been — and this is a spot that catches the sun. All the same, surely that can’t be a fully ripe blackberry in the first week of July? But it is. Or was, as shortly after taking the shot I ate the fruit, and very nice it was.
Going on the number of plumlings that currently festoon the tree, I predict that come around late July, the whole thing is going to fall over. Should it stay standing, even 2023’s glut (forty-four pounds of fruit) may be surpassed.
Hello, it’s day 4,999. I’d better not forget to get the camera out at some point tomorrow.
I’m very sure this is the latest in any given year that blackberries have featured on this blog. They really should be gone by now, and the majority of them are, having long reduced themselves to shrivelled, dusty-looking remnants. But for some reason or other, these ones are hanging on in there. I wouldn’t eat them, though.
I notice that almost exactly three years ago, on 7/10/21, I illustrated that there were still plums on our tree (albeit being eaten by insects). This year, those fruit were all gone by the end of August. But it’s time for the apple tree to pay off. It never matches the production rate of its neighbour, but it does just fine each year. On this shot I note also the matching car behind (yes, our kitchen is that close to the road).
Being 42 