Why do we grow flowers? Is it just ‘cause they’re pretty? No, the reasons are much more complex than that. I grow Lily-of-the-Valley not just for its drooping dainty bell-blossoms, but because of the boyhood memories that float to my mind when I smell its fragrance. But it was not always this way for me. As a young teenager, my first efforts in gardening were centered upon production. I wanted to grow a bounty of fruit and vegetables for the table, just as the Heirloom Orchardist did! Food was tangible proof that my gardening was worth the effort.
I don’t seem to have been the only boy with that attitude toward gardening. Michael Pollan expressed my teenage opinion perfectly in his bestselling book The Botany of Desire
But attitudes change as we grow older. We gain perspective, we gain experience and new ways of appreciation. We get a bit sentimental. This transition is natural, and I like it. I’m sure it happened to the Heirloom Orchardist too. Take this passage from the May 21, 1853 issue of the New England Farmer:
Old Apples Trees:
Reading the advice (given in an earlier issue on how) to graft old trees, I thought of some trees in the neighborhood which had undergone that process, and wished the editor had appended to his advice a rap over the knuckles of (the farmers that) follow it so badly.
Old trees of quite a decent and respectable figure in their native state, are sometimes converted into a mere collection of bare, crooked limbs, with brushes on the ends, perhaps improved in fruit, but an eye-sore and nuisance to all who love to see the fields adorned with fine trees as well as fruit. There is no need of the trees remaining in this awkward fix…”
This mid-nineteenth century orchardist thought he had written an article on how to properly rejuvenate an orchard, with proper grafting techniques. But I know better. Like me, this orchardist was a sentimental old guy. He simply loved the beauty of orchards. He didn't know it, but he admitted this clearly, stating that such orchards are “perhaps improved in fruit, but an eye-sore and nuisance to all…” I'd coax it out of him: Well, you old-timer (I'd say), if growing things is all about production, then to have your trees “improved in fruit” would be the primary desire, right? “Ah yes,” he’d say, “but not at the expense of their beauty.”
