Too Young To Be a Mama

One of the points I emphasized in my recent classes for new fruit tree growers is the need to remove fruit from young trees. Most every grower learns this early on, but it's actually something that doesn't occur intuitively to most people.

And why not? My theory (based on no evidence, but that's never stopped me from theorizing) is that it's natural to assume that a tree “knows what to do”, so if it's making fruit, it must be right. And indeed, plants generally do know exactly what to do.

The catch, though, is that a grafted tree (or one propagated by cutting, or airlayering) doesn't follow a normal course of maturation. Almost the first topic we discussed in the classes was the nature of grafted trees, and the reasons it's so important to use grafted trees for most of the major fruit species. I explained that the scion “thinks it's still on top of a big, strong tree” that will be providing it with lots of energy and nutrients. So it tries to do what would then be appropriate--- make more trees--- even when there's no hope of having the wherewithal to bring the fruit to full size and ripeness. A seedling, on the other hand, must prepare to compete with other plants for sunlight, so it puts its resources into growing big and tall as fast as it can. Its best strategy is to establish itself before risking resources on reproduction.

A three-gallon Kesar mango made a good prop. It was pushing flowers in all directions. How, I asked, can this little thing come up with enough energy to make mangos and still have enough left to grow, or even keep itself healthy? And with such limited capacity, the fruit is unlikely to be of high quality anyway. Once one understands this, it really shouldn't take any will power to remove the fruit. All of this made total sense to the classes.

Of course it's far easier to give advice than to follow it, and last year I made the very mistake I warn against. A young Tropic Beauty peach tree was covered with fruit. I took scores of them off, but figured I could get away with leaving half a dozen on. They ripened fine and made a tasty spring treat, but the tree then languished well into the growing season, ending up only little larger than it started.

Suitably chastened, I'm being rigorous this year. No peaches on young trees, and just a few small plums remain on the Scarlet Beauty. Among the mangos, only those with some muscle will get to try. When it comes to avocados, Steve Cucura warns that they can kill themselves with early fruiting, so only the Brogdon and Oro Negro that sport two-inch trunks will get the green light.

But what might put me to the test is all those flowers on my young lychee trees. If they turn into little fruits...