We've owned this land for five years now. All of the rare fruit trees on it are my doing, but it came with a couple of dozen citrus trees. Neighbors date them back to the owner before the owner before us, Errol “Old Man” Campbell. I never met him, but one can see that he knew something about fruit trees. They were grafted, and the low-lying areas had been worked to put the trees on long mounds with shallow swales between.
I've never figured out all the varieties. Some were obvious: the Temple orange, the two Minneolas, the red navels, and a couple of Valencias. One is some kind of tangelo. The previous owner, who knew more about construction and drinking vodka than about fruit trees, said he had all the names written on a piece of paper, but couldn't find it.
Some say Campbell grafted the trees himself. Whether or not that's true, I'm sure he would not have been pleased by their condition when I first saw them. At least half were not even worth trying to save. The best one was a big Valencia orange, but try as I might, there was no place to locate our house construction that didn't require its removal. That hurt, but at least it was possible to leave the big lemon tree that is still very productive today.
The first couple of years, after major pruning, installation of irrigation, fertilizing, and some can't-hurt meditation to Ma'am Gaia, most of the dozen or so trees that survived triage produced some fine fruit. In my book there's nothing quite like a perfect Minneola, except maybe a perfect Temple. The unknown varieties also produced some tasty fruit, as did one of the three red navels--- the one that's not in too much shade.
But all of them were already battling citrus maladies. The Minneolas were the first to show a serious downward trend. I even stripped all their fruit in 2014, hoping to give them a chance, but by early 2015, they were hopeless. Along with the remaining Valencia, that never got healthy enough to produce any fruit, they were replaced by a Sweetheart lychee, a tasty black mulberry I got from Pete Ray, and an Alano sapodilla.
To try to keep the dwindling collection going, I've followed the standard recommendation of foliar fertilization and strong slow-release ground fertilizer, as well as various might-help organic products on leaves and soil. The two lemon trees seem to be holding their own, especially the big one just west of the house. It has supplied our kitchen six months of every year, plus the equally demanding annual lemon cleanse of friend Francisco, with plenty left over for the in-laws, pal Kevin, and the fellow who mows my lawn. But the grapefruit tree and the remaining seven orange trees have continued their slide.
With help from my right-hand man, MRFC Secretary Josh Starry, we've been doing the annual citrus evaluation and pruning. The tangelo's main trunks were splitting and filled with ants, and when one of them fractured with just a one-arm pull, we marked the tree for removal. And one of the unknown orange varieties didn't produce fruit last year or even any healthy leaves in its spring flush, so it will be put out of its misery.
The remaining trees have earned another year of effort, but it's obvious that they don't have enough energy coming from the roots to support their foliage. So this year we decided to be more aggressive, removing not just dead wood and bad branches, but thinning out all but the strongest-looking portions. Most of the trees are being reduced by 30 to 50%. Here are some “after” shots.
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