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If you’re a longtime reader of this column, you may remember a few of my previous battles with Mother Nature on the western Kane County home front.
I’ve confronted beavers and voles and deer and box elder bugs and ground squirrels and snakes and, in a most unusual conflict, witnessed my husband take on a coyote that was attacking his beloved Wheaten terrier, a story that made the top of the 10 o’clock news and eventually morphed into “Man wrestles Coyote” headlines that went coast to coast.
The bane of my existence this summer does not have teeth, claws or legs for that matter. But it does have a nice trunk perfect for climbing.
I’m referring to an old apple tree, which isn’t even healthy but is still giving me fits this summer because of its bountiful and unwanted harvest.
In fact, for a few years now this poor tree has been in some sort of death spiral, brought about by incompetence that likely would have most arborists in the Chicago area looking to file charges for negligence against its owners.
But please don’t send emails declaring me an environmental loser, as I’m still disturbed by the one a few years ago in response to a column I wrote about a snake that had made its way onto the second step of the stairway leading up to the bedroom where I lay my head at night.
Needless to say the reader was not pleased with what he saw as my unfounded bias against reptiles. I was, he told me in no uncertain terms, mentally unstable and not worthy of occupying a place on planet Earth.
Such are the risks in writing about man vs. nature.
In my defense I saved my apple tree from a tree trimmer who wanted to chop it down a couple years ago because he said, “the poor thing didn’t have a chance” of surviving. And I dutifully picked up all the increasingly smaller apples that fell from it since this reprieve, figuring that each season would be its final crop.
Then came the Harvest of ‘23.
Despite so many ugly barren branches, despite its sad and sickly appearance, it has produced enough apples, albeit far smaller, to feed a large army of hungry marauders.
In fact, the struggling tree is so laden with fruit, every evening for the last month I’ve spent at least an hour picking them off the ground. And if I dare skip a day, I not only have to contend with those lying in plain view but also must dig for apples that become buried in grass, which gets particularly disgusting after a mower has run over them or animals have nibbled on them.
The tree is striking back - literally.
Even as I’m bent over, picking up its unwanted bounty, it drops its crop around me, with more than a few apples landing with a painful thud atop my head.
A little Googling revealed that a mature apple tree properly cared for can produce 400 to 800 apples a season, in some cases over 1,200. This one, which has been totally ignored for at least 13 years, is laughing at those numbers.
So far I’ve gathered at least two large wheelbarrows filled to the brim, which doesn’t count for the hundreds I’ve thrown into the woods, an activity that has improved my pitching velocity both overhand and underhand but has done little for my shoulder arthritis, much less my poor aching back.
I’ve tried a few tactics to help me in this summer battle: Like turning apple gathering into a relay game for the grandkids. Or planning this chore when the neighbors take their dog out into the back yard so they take pity and lend a helping hand.
As I gaze at the hundreds of apples still hanging around and ready to strike - most now on the top tier - I can’t help but wonder at the tenacity of God’s creations, and how effective a big tarp would be under these branches.
Most would probably look at this pathetic specimen and say it has to come down. But unlike my feelings for box elder bugs or snakes, I really do love trees.
And so I reached out to Fox Valley Park District Arboriculture Manager Chris Kuehn who, first and foremost, absolved me of any sins I may have committed against Mother Nature.
“There are plenty of folks who don’t properly take care of their trees,” said the longtime arborist, even admitting he’s allowed some to get overgrown because it simply takes a lot of time and manpower to keep up with need.
Then, after I described my situation, Kuehn told me I did the right thing by not allowing the tree trimmer to do his thing.
“The apple tree can be saved,” he declared.
The Beacon-News
The fact it has new growth is a good sign, and likely a good pruning will go far in bringing it back to health, Kuehn added.
The best time to cut it back, he advised, is when the tree is not growing – sometime in February or March. Not only will that cut down on insect damage, the tree will draw nutrients out of its healthy leaves to store in the root system, which will then be released in the spring.
And the tree, he predicted, “will come back stronger than ever.”
That, in turn, will mean bigger apples - and far less of them.
As for my current situation, Kuehn suggested I do what it takes to get those darn apples off the ground as quickly as possible to avoid yet another battle with Mother Nature.
“Get rid of them,” he insisted, “before the bees come.”
dcrosby@tribpub.com