Confessions of a North Natomas Cherry Grower

Royal Ranier Cherries-3rd Year Crop

Somewhere -- a bird is laughing.

And plotting...

See -- I know this bird. I know this bird intimately. I know this bird well enough to know that his name isn't Bill -- nor is it Venus. But this bird and I do have something in common.

We both love Royal Ranier Cherries. And we'll both go through extraordinary measures to get our dirty little claws on them.

This is one smart bird.

Have you ever grown cherries in your backyard? This is a first for me. Oh -- I've RAIDED cherry trees in other backyards sure enough. Childhood memories from Ribier Avenue in Modesto are ripe with memories of monster trees loaded with thousands of fat, ripe, red cherries.

Royal Ranier Cherries-Two Weeks From Harvest

It was a child's delight "back in the day" to hoist myself halfway up one of those monster trees -- make myself comfortable on a couple of branches and eat cherries to the point where I was litterally sick of them. At that point I would jump down -- walk home -- only to return the very next day and repeat the same steps I had taken the day before.

There were always enough cherries.

I bring up this memory because it seems as if the timeline for actually growing cherries works a little like this:

Year 1: Plant cherry tree

Year 2: Cherry produces 1st small crop

Year 20: Finally get to enjoy your first cherry because it's the one cherry that hasn't been consumed by marauding neighborhood birds.

You see -- I'm a battle with the birds here in North Natomas. It's the Bird against the birds. The prize is a 3rd year crop of lip-smacking Royal Ranier Cherries. And the Bird is losing -- miserably.

The Royal Ranier Cherry Tree-Third Year

The wife that is Venus and I first learned that we would be going to battle every May after we saw a small 2nd year crop of Royal Ranier Cherries vanish overnight. We had just each tasted our first cherry from that 2nd year tree. We both agreed -- as good as those cherries were -- they needed another "day or two" of seasoning in the sunshine.

The birds didn't wait for seasoning. The next day our small crop was gone. I actually watched with chagrin as a robin popped into the tree -- and popped out with the final cherry -- stem and all. The look he gave me that particular day said it all. You can describe it with one word: SUCKER!!!

I had never done battle with the birds over cherry crops all those years ago in Modesto because the trees were so large and lush -- they produced more than enough cherries for an army of boys and birds to consume. It didn't matter if they got the crop at the top. There was more than enough on the lower branches to enjoy.

But that was a 30-year old tree. 30-year old cherry trees produce massively larger crops than three year old cherry trees do. And I'm not about to wait another 27-years to enjoy my first Royal Ranier Cherry. Neither is Venus. We'll both be using walkers by then.

A way to get rid of marauding birds?

So what is an enterprising North Natomas cherry tree grower to do then? I am reminded of a gorgeous young lady that I met one day last spring at a Sacramento Certified Farmer's market. This eye-catching, blue-eyed,  blonde cherry temptress was pushing a huge and wide variety of cherries freshly harvested from the family farm somewhere near Stockton.

When I asked this young lady for advice regarding marauding birds and cherry crops, those blue eyes flashed as she related a now famous line from Nazi Major Toht from a memorable bar fight scene in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark: "Shoot Zem, Shoot Zem All."

Nice advice, but somehow I don't think the Bird neighbors surrounding the Back 40 ranch would appreciate it much if I started blazing away with a shotgun. I'm already pushing the envelope with the Hello Kitty colony of bees. Besides, shotguns and suburbs don't make for a good mix.

Scare Tape on the Royal Ranier Cherry Tree

So what is a frustrated cherry grower to do then? As this photo clearly illustrates -- I took the advice of a Kern County gardener and blogger by the name of Maybelline. "Scare tape," she advised. "Scare tape will keep them away." Sure enough -- I found said Scare Tape at Peaceful Valley Farm Supply in Nevada City -- and thought my problem to be solved.

Just one teensy-eeensy problem. Scare tape might "scare" the birds in Kern County. But here in Sacramento? Bird laugh at scare tape. In fact, they love it. They land right next to it -- and look at without nary a hint of alarm. In fact -- some of that "scare tape" has found it's way into bird nests around the neighborhood.

How do I know this? When you see a bird's next glistening in the sun? You just know. Scare tape that I dutifully tied to cherry and plum trees plus a thornless boysenberry bush that is now in tatters from some bird shredding it into pieces is yet another good sign.

Precious the Cat: Not a fan of Scare Tape

The scare tape did work on one creature. It scared the bird-killer cat of mine into the next yard. That was about the only defense I had against marauding birds anyway, and now Precious the Cat has flown the coop.

The next line of defense? The next line of defense is netting that I purchased out of frustration last year when marauding birds helped themselves to half of the June Pride peach crop that year. Now -- I'm not THAT stingy. I don't mind sharing a fresh fruit meal with my feathered friends. But when the feathered friends started helping themselves to EVERY peach on the June Pride tree? That meant war.

I must admit -- the netting did work wonders when I placed it on the O'Henry Peach tree later that summer. The wife and I enjoyed a late season harvest of beautiful -- un-bird molested -- O'Henry peaches. But I didn't like the effect the netting had on the tree itself. Branches were bent in a downward motion -- and never did straighten out. The tree still doesn't look quite right from a late summer netting -- and this year's terrible bout of peach leaf curl isn't helping matters much either.

Still -- the scare tape was doing everything BUT scare the marauding birds eyeing the Royal Ranier Cherry crop -- so on the netting went this weekend.

Bird after the Bird Cherry crop!

The response has been less than desired. Despite my efforts to tie up every loose nook and cranny -- one bird in particular continues to find his way inside. In fact -- he takes great delight in chattering how much of a fool I am. If he isn't locating holes in the netting at the bottom of the tree -- he's ripping this hole that I tied off with string in the top.

I've caught this one particular bird inside this netting three times today alone. Each time I dutifully locate and close off the hole I've left open -- or the hole he's managed to create. But somehow I think I'm fighting a losing battle.

I've had a weekend to battle this bird. Tomorrow? It's back to work and back to the workplace.

Somewhere a bird is waiting...

And laughing...

That Damn Dog!

Bandi the "Ninja Turtle"

...and now for the next chapter in the riveting Sacramento Vegetable Garden miniseries that is "That Damn Dog!"

Starring: That Damn Dog!

Acclimating said dog with garden is proving to be a challenge -- as many gardeners suggested it would. Bandi the Bandana Girl is -- after all -- just a six or seven month old mutt pup of an adorable dog (who can resist that face?) -- and puppies are just full of non-stop energy.

Having kids around the house helps drain some of that pent-up energy -- but they're not around 24-7 -- so That Damn Dog has been known to put her paws to good use around the yard.

The damage hasn't been all that extensive to be honest -- although she did particulary enjoy that Incrediball Hydrangea that had been growing extremely well in a tucked away corner against the home near the berry plantings. Flowers -- stems -- even the roots -- made for a tasty meal. All Bill and Venus Bird discovered was a gaping hole.

That Damn Dog...

Still -- she hasn't been quite the disaster that some had predicted either. Despite an overwhelming selection of raised beds filled with loose soil -- she has resisted the urge so far to "dig, dig, dig." My fear that this damn dog would develop a love for all things ripened tomatoes hasn't come to fruition -- and I forgave her for picking that underdeveloped cantaloupe. I must admit -- it looked like one of her play toy softballs.

O'Henry Peach

But where Bill & Venus Bird are drawing the absolute line is right here to your left -- our O'Henry Peach tree -- which is positively loaded with a large crop of what I hope will be very tasty peaches. This counts as the third year for this tree -- and Venus and I culled it quite a bit during the spring and early summer to keep the crop small and manageable.

Not only does culling the fruit cut down on the stress placed on the tree itself -- it also seems to aid in actual tree growth. Venus and I trimmed said tree for the first time last winter -- and sure enough -- the O'Henry responded with three new shoots for every trim cut that we made.

June Pride Peach

It's hard to tell just how extensive the new growth is in these photos -- however -- because Venus and I have already netted the tree against marauding bird and possible raids by that damn dog. The birds really went to town on the June Pride Peach tree earlier this year and we were not prepared for the onslaught. In past years -- birds have helped themselves to about 10% of the crop -- which is a manageable number for us.

This year however? The birds showed up in greater numbers and started feasting away on what I must admit was a rather poor showing from the June Pride peach this year. The June Pride normally produces baseball sized fruit that ripens during the last week of June and the first week of July. But this year? Not only was the harvest late -- most of the peaches were plum sized.

O'Henry Peaches Protected by Netting

While I was willing to wait for tree ripened fruit -- our fine feather friends were not. I simply wasn't prepared for the type of damage they would eventually inflict. I probably lost anywhere from 50%-60% of the crop to birds that settled in for the feast -- and I was bound and determined to not let the same thing happen with the O'Henry crop.

Thus -- the addition of the bird netting -- which also keeps a curious dog at bay. She hasn't made the connection yet that the tree holds a similar bounty to the old June Pride peach pits that I have allowed her to chew on from time to time (if the pits keep her interest away from the melon crop located nearby -- I consider this a *win*).

The O'Henry Peach

Although most of this year's fruit harvests have been somewhat disappointing -- which also involves losing trees to blight and freeze -- our fortunes appear to have turned with the impending O'Henry Peach harvest. The tree is finally large enough to support a somewhat moderate harvest (peach pie/cobbler anyone?) -- and the peaches are finally growing into true "O'Henry size."

Yeah. They're the size of beach balls. Bill Bird likes big peaches.