This little figgy!
Somewhere around 1995, a friend handed me a twig. It was a fig cutting from a tree that was growing wild in a forest here in Georgia, of a totally unknown variety. I planted it in a pot, and then, when I bought a house, in the yard. We got delicious figs for years from that little twig, and it grew into a climbing tree for the kids.
When we were moving, we took cuttings with us from the now massive fig tree/bush. We potted them after they sprouted roots, and then planted those six cuttings in pots. In 2017, we planted them at our farm in Good Hope, and those were our first six figs, and the beginning of our farm.
We have planted more every year since, of varying varieties. We now think our original fig, which we call “home fig,” is probably a Celeste. In addition, we have added two or more of each of the following over the years since: LSU purple, LSU gold, Celeste, Italian Honey, Brown Turkey, Kadota, Magnolia, Chicago Hardy, Black Mission, Jack’s Black, Nero’s Caesar, Peter’s Honey, Tennessee Mountain, Violette di Bordeaux, and Green Ischia. We also have several unknown label fails. Did you know sharpies are far from permanent when it rains? We’re hoping some of these unknowns can become known once they start bearing fruit. We now have 93 fig trees, between the orchard and the high tunnel. Most are 1-2 year olds.
Our figs get compost and organic fertilizers, and in addition, we run our chickens, ducks, and geese through the orchard during the fall and winter. They scratch up overwintering pests, and do their own direct fertilization treatment.
Some figs start producing right away, but typically only give a handful of figs or so in the first couple of years. It’s generally 3-5 years before you get a decent harvest. So, we now have some three and four year old trees, and 2022 was looking optimistic.
Spring came early in 2022. After a long enough spring that the figs were thriving with tender new growth, we had a crazy late freeze, which killed back the green new growth, but didn’t kill the trees themselves. Then, in May, we were hit with ambrosia beetles. We had to cut 35 of our figs back to the ground to save the roots.
Well, if there was no risk, it would be a grocery store, not a farm. And, who wants grocery store figs, right? We’re so grateful that all our figs lived through it and are regrowing and recovering. With such a brutal spring, we won’t have the season we were hoping for, and we expect it to be late, but we will have figs.