Yesterday John King posted Weather Challenges, another of his informative musings on orchardry in Antrim County. Are they out of the woods over at King’s? Nope. Is there reason for hope? Of course. (I believe the Antrim County Farmer’s motto is I farm, therefore I hope.)
Babs Young and I had stopped by King Orchards on Monday, and were a little bit encouraged. The apricots were in full bloom.
The forecast said there would be another freeze on Monday night. The wind machines were ready. [Update. Nuts. I show you blooms and then bare trees. I should mention that the wind machine is over by the cherry trees, which are in bud but not in bloom. Sorry.]
The forecast was stone cold right. Word on Wednesday was that tart cherries were badly damaged all across northern Michigan, but there was still hope for the sweets. The apples and apricots seemed to be doing OK. Some of the bounty from last year is on hand.
Frozen cherries and apple slices and apricots, frozen pies. Honey, too, made by the Pollinators.
I bought a jar of the honey and some apples – a half bushel each of Galas and Macs. Some people stockpile gold, I go straight for the food. I checked out the apricot trees again, too. They were, as advertised, holding their own, although it looked as if they were trying to thumb a ride south.
I don’t blame them. Tonight’s forecast – snow. Tomorrow’s forecast – snow and rain. All I know for sure is that it’s dark out now. I have high hopes that it may grow light again by morning. Another ten years in Antrim County and we’ll make a stubborn optimist out of me yet.
I’m sure Babs took better pictures than I did on Monday, but you will have to wait for those. She probably doesn’t have a better picture of herself, on account of she was focused elsewhere. I thought you’d like to see the Ace Reporter at work.
Torch Lake Views 
shoreacres
March 29, 2012
I’ve been thinking about you and the trees all day. We’ve got heat indices in the mid-90s predicted for the rest of the week. Maybe if I go outside and blow really, really hard?
I’m just sick about it. I know, I know – it happens. I’ve seen corn crops fail, and cotton, and apples. If you can believe it, the Texas Fujis that were doing so well finally succumbed to – cotton root rot! Do the orchards have crop insurance, like corn and wheat farmers? The last thing people need in this economy is this kind of trouble.
I guess I’d better order another case of my favorite tart cherries. Maybe two. I can do without a lot of comforts in my life, but I can’t do without my cherries.
Nice shot of the moon and Venus, by the way. Hasn’t it been spectacular!
Gerry
March 29, 2012
You have my sympathy. I would rather freeze to death than broil to death. Not as if I have a choice in the matter, and we seem to be in no danger of either at the moment. I’m just saying.
I’m glad you liked the night scene. I pushed the little camera to its limits and then some. The moon blew out. I like the shot anyway. It reminds me of what it was like. Yes, it has been spectacular. I have a crick in my neck from staring at it every night.
Martha
March 29, 2012
Apricots in bloom. How lovely. We have no fruit tree blooms to show. Very soon we will be experiencing the same sleet and rain and misery as you, comrade.
Gerry
March 29, 2012
It’ll be interesting to see how your orchards do over on that side of Big Blue. At least Wisconsin’s cranberries should be fine.
I’m used to thinking of the weather visiting you first and then coming on over to plague us. So far, the snow and sleet and rain are all just rumors. Sadly, the weather forecasters have been pretty accurate this week.
Nye
March 30, 2012
Gerry, I hope they make it through the cold spell, the weather is confusing to the trees and plants right now, even in our area. The photo of the apricot blooms thumbing a ride south looks real nice, and also the night shot.
Gerry
March 30, 2012
Thank you, Nye. We’ll all just have to wait and see, won’t we.
Jan
March 30, 2012
Someone asked me about the wind machines. I said I thought that moving air must prevent frost, but that sounded kinda silly. I wonder if you know what the science of the large fans is.
Gerry
March 30, 2012
I do not know, but I know someone who does. (That is how I manage to get through life in general.) Here’s what John King wrote about wind machines in 2009.
tootlepedal
March 30, 2012
I am hoping that our present unseasonable weather here finishes before any of the fruit trees flower. It looks as though it should. Nervous work for your farmers at present.
Gerry
March 30, 2012
Antrim County farmers have nerves of steel. OK, stubbornness of titanium.
I wish your fruit trees a soft landing.
P.j. grath
March 30, 2012
First thing I did outdoors yesterday morning was to check the trees. Haven’t been out to investigate them yet today. I was born stubborn. Have always been stubborn. The optimism has been harder won, but I now cling to it with every bit of inborn stubbornness. Farmer, bookseller, writer, artist–without hope, we’d be doomed!
Gerry
March 30, 2012
I am thinking about whether hope and optimism are the same thing. Meanwhile, over on this side of the Bay, it is snowing (as predicted–that sleety, sulky sort of snow that would really prefer to be rain) and my internet service was out for several hours. Maybe I will go over to see the apricots again and maybe I’ll just sit here and sulk.
flandrumhill
March 30, 2012
Those apricot blooms do look like they’re thumbing for a ride to someplace warm.
I think gold is highly overated too. Food is much more practical to save up in uncertain times. I’ve read that in WWII, alcohol, chocolate and nylons had the greatest bartering value. I don’t know how butter didn’t manage to make it to the top three.
Gerry
March 30, 2012
The art of poll-taking was in its infancy, and Mistakes Were Made. (“Dewey Wins!!”) Butter was way ahead of nylons.
WOL
March 30, 2012
Your weather comments recalled to mind George Carlin’s weatherman’s — “The forecast for tonight? Dark, with widely scattered light in the morning.”
Gerry
March 30, 2012
I loved George Carlin’s routines. I should go find some and listen to them. They would make me laugh. I could use a good laugh.
Molly
March 30, 2012
Ouch. My heart aches for the tarts. Have you ever read the piece (Traverse Mag) by Anne Marie Oomen about setting bales of hay on fire to smolder beneath threatened blossoms on cold nights? I love that piece.. it never leaves me. But I’m good with wind machines too — whatever it takes.
Gerry
March 30, 2012
I don’t think I read the piece when it came out, although I am a big fan of AMO. Several people have mentioned it to me lately, and I went looking for it online, but didn’t find it. (I did find another, though – Asleep with Bees, from April, 2008. You’ll love it.)
Dawn
March 30, 2012
Hoping hoping hoping……
Gerry
March 30, 2012
Me too.
Robin
March 30, 2012
I think you’ve just identified my fruit tree for me. I knew it was either an apricot or plum, but wasn’t sure until I saw your photos of the apricot blossoms. Hopefully we’ll get a few apricots this year.
Poor trees, having to put up with this bipolar weather. 😦
Gerry
March 30, 2012
I am generally at a loss to identify fruit trees until they are bearing fruit (at which point I am utterly reliable and completely absorbed in the subject). The only reason I know these are apricot trees is that the ones that stood there last year bore apricots and I’m pretty sure John hasn’t sneaked in during the night and switched them around on me–although that would’ve been just like one of the King boys in the old days, if you can believe half the stories. I digress.
Sybil
April 1, 2012
Though I love seeing the fruit trees in bloom — I understand that it is important they wait for the right time — otherwise an entire crop would be lost.
Sigh …
The “right time” here is mid-May.
Gerry
April 1, 2012
Yup. That’s the right time here, too. Ah well.