Why I Planted Peaches and Pears (Last Installment in This Series)

When I moved from the city, my new home had half a dozen old apple trees near the silo beside the barn. They were of the winesap cultivar. Neglected for many years, they were in sad shape. I followed instructions in The Reader’s Digest Illustrated Guide to Gardening to prune them. They held on for a few more years, but the yield was usually disappointing. I finally gave up. The wood lent fragrance to many a winter’s day when I burned it in my Buck stove. I replaced the trees with plums, apples, peaches, and pears. This is a story about the last two.

I remembered how thoroughly my mother enjoyed the fresh fruit from her trees. How easily I can picture her as she sat watching Ruth Lyons on the Zenith black-and-white TV while eating a peach, which dripped down her chin. How readily I can see her later in the year as she plucked a pear and bit into its inner pale yellow goodness. Nothing made her happier! She was certainly no J. Alfred Prufrock, who asks, “Do I dare to eat a peach?” Like my mother, I was determined to grow peaches and pears, not just apples.

My Peaches That Snapped Their Branches

 

In my area, frosts nip the fruit blooms almost every year. With the loss of the spring flowers comes a fruitless harvest. Two years ago, the peach tree blossoms escaped the usual frost. The fruit set on so thickly and heavily that the branches began to split off the trunks of the trees. I tried to prevent calamity by propping the branches with two-by-fours, but the limbs broke at the points of support. I had the greatest crop of peaches ever! … but the cost was dear. My peach trees are so weakened that I plan to replace them with new stock.

Last year, the blooming of the pear trees slipped in between the killing frosts. The fruit set on in bunches like overgrown grapes. The branches arched downward, many of them touching the ground, and I was afraid that my pear trees would be destroyed in the same way that my peach trees were ruined in the previous year. My pears were younger, which caused their branches to be springier. Luckily, none of the limbs snapped! They were covered with fruit of that indescribable outward color (green or yellow or brown, depending on the angle and the light). For weeks, I enjoyed the purity of pears. To me, the flavor of pears is uncomplicated but powerful in its simplicity. When you make your own apple sauce, include one or two pears. You will be amazed how the notes of the pear enhance the taste of the apples!

My Heavenly Pears in Jars

No wonder pears have figured so prominently in literature and the other arts! They are divine!