Hobbits, Habits and Rabbits

The moon is hanging on to its dominance over the sky with the morning star in attendance as the sun rallies for control over the tree tops. One might swear Shakespeare is lurking here at 7:00am and 7ºC this clear April morning at Chartwell.

One might also be forgiven for thinking so, if one was standing next to me at this moment (with gumboots against the frosty grass), because the surrounds are indeed so crisp, quiet and Shakespearean.

The trees are all dressed in Autumn uniforms, with a huge proportion of their leaves having been shed in preparation of the imminent June winter. Obviously the evergreens are the obstinate delinquents, who have no firm beliefs in these things.

(Above): One of my favourites – an intricate pattern of branches: quite possibly a painting artist’s dream?

(Above): I have indicated that I am not much of a knowledgeable gardener, let alone anything resembling an arborist, but this tree has undergone an amazing transformation in the past month or so. You do not need to be an expert in tree matters to be able to appreciate the changing beauty of nature.

(Above): Not far from Goat Hill, I stumble on this small clump of field mushrooms. I have also seen numerous colonies of larger brownish-fawn ones on other days.

 
(Above): I am not a knowledgeable mushroomist either, but the neighbours have told me to stay clear of those with white undersides, and that brown undersides are Ok. These have white undersides, so I will leave well alone – I am not really that fond of mushrooms… By the way, an expert in mushrooms is known as a mycologist, but I didn’t want to appear too Shakespearean so early in the morning…

(Above): This guy growing nearer the pine trees, is silvery. Drat – white is bad, brown is Ok – what about silver?

(Above): I finally reach the object of my stroll – this is my proposed Winnie The Poo retreat. Why I call it this will become obvious at a future date. On the southern side of the driveway we have a small copse, which, up to now has only been used by the dogs as a hunting ground. Hunting for what? Who knows? Maybe hobbits or rabbits, but they’ve caught neither so far.

 
(Above): My Hobbit Tree, with its interesting brown bark. I have cleared a narrow walking pathway which goes past the Hobbit Tree, so that he is always close by.

(Above): It is almost impossible to walk anywhere in the property without a dog being within a few yards. Here Sophie is investigating whether anything untoward may be lurking in the undergrowth. No rabbits here, she reports. I want to cover the black soil of the pathway with chip and bark to give a drier and cleaner underfoot experience.

(Above): I was thinking of converting this little path into a sitting / talking / thinking / reading / doing absolutely nothing retreat. It will disturb the minimum of plant life, is cool and totally secluded, protected from wind and rain. A bird feeder would probably be much appreciated here – there are a few cute little fantails which frequent the copse.

If anything develops out of this idea, you’ll surely be hearing about it here.

Quince Charming

I encountered preserved stewed quince and custard as a youngster many years ago, in a farming environment, I suspect. Thereafter, the picture on labels of quince products on supermarket shelves was about as close as I got to them. Quinces are that type of fruit that you dearly love and crave, or else you might not be bothered, one way or the other.

At Chartwell, we are fortunate enough to have a tree which is fruit-bearing (as quince requires very little water, we’ve probably had a good summer temperament for this tree). It was pruned the previous season by someone who claimed to be an “arborist”, but his credentials have since been queried, I understand. Whether he “hacked” the tree or not, I cannot really say, so we will start with the current situation as “ground-zero” and compare future crops to the 2013/2014 yield.

Our technical management (Prof Google and Dr Wiki) advise that we should pick the fruit as it yellows from the initial pubescent green, and then store the fruit in individual separated wrappings in a cool dark place, to ripen to an overall rich yellow colour. They also advise that one should not pick bruised fruit. We have many with marks and stains (not sure what is the cause), but we will check carefully next season to determine the malady.

(Above): Clayton carefully removes the fruit overhead with extension cutters, which we also use for pruning the high branches. Wherever possible, we try to avoid standing on ladders. Here, Tyler, who had the job of catching the falling specimens to minimise bruising,  has found a cunning use for the little steps instead.

 
(Above): The harvest being collected and checked by Tyler is starting to grow in size, a bit bigger than our January crop forecast…

(Above): Back at the sorting table, ready for wrapping in paper for storage, the specimens are graded for size and colour. Grade 1 is the large big-palm size, while the rest are categorised as Grade 2. Turns out that there were 26 Grade 1 and 42 Grade 2 quinces in this 2013/2014 harvest.

(Above): Ones of full yellow colour, with with no or very little green skin left, will be processed within the next few days, whist the rest will be left to ripen.

Quinces are tart and not good eaten raw. Many cooks like to use them in baking, such as a quince-apple crisp or pie. The quince flesh turns a light pink when baked and has a fragrant, perfume aroma. Other culinary uses include Iranian (meat stuffed into quince cavities), Moroccan tanginess (stews with meat, quince and dried fruits, spiced with cinnamon and cloves), marmalades and jellies.