Figs!

My attempt at growing figs began about 6 years ago. A friend convinced me that I could indeed grow my own delicious and somewhat exotic (for me) fruit. I had been sure that being in the Coast Range next to the Nehalem River would not be suitable for that kind of tree and had up until that point, bothered every friend and relative in the Willamette Valley to snag my fair share each year as they ripened.

I finally broke down and bought a five foot seedling at our premier nursery (at a premier price no less) since I wanted the best possible rootstock for my experiment. The seedling was planted in the very middle of the only flat spot of ground I could find, it was the direct center of the only lawn that 1. actually had grass growing instead of dandelions 2. didn’t sport any of the familiar mole mounds like the rest of the yard. But I digress, I had found a spot and I could use the irrigation while I was filling stock tanks to keep water to the tender tree.

During the summer the tree grew taller and large leaves graced the new growth. It was a beautiful tree and I could almost taste the sweet fruit that was to come. During the winter, the tree died back to only about a foot of live tree stalk and only had a couple of new leaves emerge during the next summer. It did have one fig begin to form, I picked it on the morning we had our first frost. It was only the size of a small walnut, hard and immature. I ate it anyway, just to be able to say that I ate one of my own grown figs (I should not have tried to eat, it tasted terrible but bragging rights are hard to come by sometimes).

That winter, what was left of the base of the tree died down to the ground. My friend convinced me that this is normal for new fig trees to die back before once again springing to life and bearing loads of fruit.

The next two years were dis-heartening indeed with weakling growth and no sets of fruit what-so-ever. Then nothing, the tree died back completely.

Last year I had continued to weed around the circle where the fig was planted hoping in vain for some little growth to pop up from the roots showing that my majestic fig was just expanding its base before tree-ing out above ground. Still nothing.

This year, as the mower was pushed over the patch of grass and the enclosing circle, we realized the fig had not been dead after all, but we had indeed trimmed it close with the mower. It was a small growth that could easily have been mistaken for a weed.  A water sprinkler was reset near the front lawn and we have been giving the fig loads of water since.

My fig tree is now a whopping 3 inches high and has about 20 leaves.

I still have to look close to make sure it is not a new dandelion in the dirt, but there is still hope for this little one to rise to 20 feet in height and supply the whole neighborhood with fresh figs. This may not happen in my lifetime ( I have prepared myself for this scenario, just in case).

In the meantime, I snagged a bowlful of figs from an old high school chum who seems to have no trouble growing the sweet delicacy.

I had to climb a 16 foot ladder to pick these beauties and am enjoying every last one of them.