Joyner Road

It's New Year's Resolution time. Last year, you may recall, the focus of my self-improvement was fertilization. So how's that working out?

I'm going to give myself a silver star on this one. A substantial upgrade, but short of aspirations. Things were going fairly well until I dreamed up a number of time and energy-consuming infrastructure projects, like clearing, edging, and mulching these two beds for jakfruit seedlings. And Zill Hill, about which more in a future post. But all of my plants got some attention to their nutrient needs, and most look very happy. We'll call it a success. But no gold star.

Next year I'm going for that gold star on fertilization. But that's just finishing up last year's New Year's resolution. Something bolder is needed for 2016.

The new New Year's Resolution is actually related to fertilization, in a way. It's to go all out with mulch.

Many growers have used the all-mulch approach, but there's no better illustration than Unbelievable Acres, the West Palm Beach masterpiece of Gene Joyner. He started with four acres of the paper-thin topsoil over limestone found in that region. For the next forty years he added countless loads of mulch, and built a lush paradise of tropical fruit trees and ornamentals, with topsoil more like Iowa than Florida. Nature's been using this method in her forests even longer than Gene has.

So this year, I'm going to start down Joyner Road. I certainly don't fancy myself to be in the same league as Gene, or even close to it, but who better to learn from than the masters? Due to birthday accumulation, I won't have forty years to work at it, but then I'm not starting with limestone.

The project is already underway. Here is the mulch pile area, which is saving local arborists a longer trip to drop their freshly ground wood chips. Dependably awarded twenties help the guys remember that I'm here.

These fruit trees in the northwest grove already have their first dose of heavy mulch. I've worried that for the younger trees, putting down layers this thick might prevent the lighter rainfalls from reaching their small root systems. But these trees are irrigated, and most are on mounds, so that close in the layer is not nearly as thick as it looks. They should be OK in the short run, and over the long term they will adapt and will find the water that the grass used to use. There's more mulch to come, a lot more. If the resolution goes as planned, those grassy aisles between them will someday be just a memory.

In the photo above, the tree in the top right is a Carrie mango, blooming like crazy and already sporting a couple of little fruits on New Year's Eve. Top left is a Rosigold with these 2-inch fruits. Will we be eating mangos in February?

At the end of the year, I'll report on how much grass has disappeared, and how the project seems to affect the fruit trees.