There’s a knack to picking figs, which is to get there before the wasps do. The little blighters have a habit of gouging out a large hole in any ripe fig- and always on the blind side. Our fig tree is an old Turkey and is one of the few plants which were there when we first came here, nearly 11 years ago. Today I picked a dozen ripe figs in perfect condition, which is the most I’ve ever managed in one day. There are dozens more to come. This abundant crop has happened by chance and we certainly don’t deserve it. There are rules for managing a fig tree which involve careful pruning and the removal of unripe fruit to overcome the fact that a tree which in its native land will produce two crops a year will only provide one crop here. I’m afraid that I’ve never managed to summon up the time or the energy to do what’s required- which makes the abundance of this year’s crop all the sweeter.
Jonathan Denby’s Slow Life blog from the Lake District
