Have a Berry Nice Day!

Ripening Arapaho Blackberries-Bird Back 40

It's berry season in the Bird Back 40. It's about time. It's also early this year thanks to some unseasonably HOT weather in the Sacramento river bottom. Our spring this year should be awarded the film title of Gone in Sixty Seconds. The hot spring jump-started many fresh fruits and vegetables that either did very well (asparagus) or flopped completely (artichokes).

One crop to react positively to an early spring rush of hot weather? The blackberries pictured above. They are large. They are luscious. They represent one of the best "impulse" purchases that Bill Bird has ever made. This is the Arapaho Thornless Blackberry vine. Unlike many other thornless vines that need support in the form of a trellis or fence, the Arapaho resembles a small tree with a thick central cane system that keeps the plant upright.

Arapaho Blackberry Ready for Consumption

I literally tripped over this starter plant in my mad quest for additional seed potatoes last spring at Lowe's Big Box Home Improvement store in West Sacramento. I had recently made a decision to move existing vines from one spot in the yard to another, which would create space for one brand new vine. I had never known vines to be self-supporting, and since I literally tripped over them while searching for seed potatoes, I considered it a sign from God.

Thus the Arapaho was purchased and planted in the Bird Back 40. My faith has been rewarded with berries the size of walnuts and a creamy sweet delightful taste that would be a winner in any pie made from scratch. My only regret is that the Arapaho, now in its second year of production, isn't producing quite enough for pies just yet. But as I gaze at that Jack-in-the-Beanstalk tree-trunk sized growth bent on growing over the fence line, I have a pretty good idea that pie construction will be on the agenda for 2014.

Next Year's Fruiting Cane: The Arapaho

But the Arapaho isn't the only thornless blackberry springing to life in the Bird Back 40. In fact, I know of one or two Sacramento area fresh berry growers that would even make the case that the Arapaho isn't the best vine in the Bird Back 40. Nope! That honor would be bestowed to the vine growing to the immediate right of the Arapaho: the Black Satin.

Unlike the Arapaho, the Black Satin was not an impulse purchase. I was approached by two other gardeners several years ago who were putting together a major purchase at a well known California nursery and asked if I wanted in. Want in? Duh. I didn't "want in." I dived in with three feet. Four or five years ago the Black Satin Blackberry vine was the current rage of the gardening day. It was the "must have" berry for the backyard.

And, so, well, I had to have it.

Black Satin Blackberries-Bird Back 40

As it turns out? I had some problems with it. The first plant actually up and died on me. In fact, it never got beyond "bare root" stage. When June rolled around and that brown cane started turning even browner, I knew that something had gone wrong. And I would have to wait another full year, till the next bare root season, to get a replacement. And then, to add insult to injury, I dug the plant up last year and moved it to another location. Talk about a crime! I could be tried and convicted! The charge your honor? Black Satin Blackberry Abuse!

As for the friend who also ordered the Black Satin? She's a little better gardener than I am. Her plant lived. Plus she didn't abuse it like I did. Today that Black Satin plant resembles a large Christmas Tree, and, yes, it's loaded with hundreds of FAT berries. She recently posted a picture of her plant on her Facebook page and I reacted by promptly drooling on my computer keyboard. What's that? You'd like her name and address eh? Yeah, I'm sure you do...

Loaded Black Satin Bush-Sacramento

I guess the point I'm trying to make here -- and doing a bad job at it -- is that spring and summer blackberries are the absolute bomb. The days of plants with thorns the size and sharpness of switchblades are long gone. Horticulture has rewarded us with all sorts of berry options, minus the thorns. Got a small and ignored spot in the yard? Plant berries.

You'll be glad you did. Because there's nothing quite like a slice of warm Black Satin and Arapaho Blackberry pie on a cold winter's day. That's what growing your own is all about.

After a Storm: CRY!

Tree Rose After Wind Storm: Bird Back 40

There are gardening writers in the local blogosphere (is that even a word?) who offer helpful and handy tips of what steps to take now that a storm has come and gone.

I'm here to tell you that I am not one of those bloggers. If you're looking for good advice, go elsewhere. If you're looking for "can't possibly fail" gardening tips, you've tuned to the wrong channel. But if you're here to laugh at my misfortunes, congratulations, you've reached Nirvana.

I suppose the point I'm trying to make is that it doesn't take long for Mother Nature to utterly destroy what took you months to build. Mere hours of misfortune can result in epic disaster, especially if you've devoted an entire Bird Back 40 to this insane gardening endeavor.

St. Patrick's Rose Stem Ripped from Bush

Case in point? That nice looking tree rose bush pictured above right? That's not just any tree rose, my friend. That is the St. Patrick's tree rose. It was a gift to the wife that is Venus a few years back for her birthday. I would later to have to invest in another tree rose that went with the St. Patrick as it snapped in two following a rather ferocious wind storm.

That's gardening for you. Investment and epic failure. I'm here today to tell you that I babied this tree rose like no other when the first spring shoots began to emerge in February. It was given the best fertilizer on a once-a-month schedule. Daily and deep watering would follow. And if any bad bugs appeared to munch on those yet-unopened rose buds? They got a shot of something special, which also protected said tree rose from other maladies of the fungal variety.

Flavor Finale Pluot Tree: Mangled

But, in the end, when a sustained wind rips through the North Natomas river bottom, as it did this past Monday, it really doesn't matter. Because those howling winds just about tore everything to shreds, or mangled it to the point where it looks like someone beat on it with a crow hammer.

Those branches and buds of the Saint Patrick's tree rose that I'd cared for, nurtured, performed concerts for now lie in a heap on the ground. They are broken. They will not be roses. They will be waste for the Green Waste can. I am disgusted. What a waste.

Pluots That Will Never Ripen

That same despair and disgust applies to just about everything that Venus and I nurtured during those spring months. Why did we graft those new varieties to the Flavor Finale Pluot? So they could produce more pluots that the wind could just knock off the tree?

Oh, and that ingenious little contraption that I wrote about here that makes a nice little cover for my tomato plant starters? I also discovered, sadly, that it makes great kite material. This is after it blew off somewhere into Yolo County. I might find it someday and mount on a wall as a testament of good ideas gone very wrong.

Broken Arapaho Blackberry Vines

Never again will I visit those emerging Arapaho blackberry vine flowers and get visions of blackberry pie or blackberry cobbler. Not with visions like this one. Tender blackberry vines and sustained gusting winds do not mix. Something's gotta give, and it wasn't the wind.

Our spring of discontent doesn't end there. There's no need to "cull" the peach trees of extra peaches. Mother Nature did it for us. Whether we wanted to do it or not. Consider it done. And as desperate as I am, I will NOT try to glue those peaches back on the tree. Unless, of course, someone tells me it can be done.

If it didn't break, it got bent. If it didn't get bent, it flew two counties to the south. There was a time when the spring artichoke crops were close to growing over the fence. Not anymore. Some of them are growing to the east, while others grow to the west. Some are growing down. Did they survive? Sure! Will those plants snap off at the base under the weight of a heavy artichoke crop come this spring? By golly you betcha they will!

Bent Artichoke Plants

So, dear gardeners, take heed. No matter what measures you take to prevent disaster, no matter how hard you try, Mother Nature can undo all of it with a single blow. And then you begin to wonder why this lady doesn't like you so much.

A wise gardener once wrote the following: Gardening is cheaper than therapy and you get tomatoes." If that's the case, this must be a case of shock therapy at it's best.