Own Grown Gardening

  It sounds crazy but, until about a week ago, I had no idea the  European Union and the  UK Government classes the burning of wood as a low carbon energy source. This logic is based on the fact the carbon released into the atmosphere when burning wood biomass was absorbed out of the atmosphere as the trees grew and, newly planted replacement saplings will  repeat the carbon absorption cycle again. In 2020,  12.6% of the UK's electricity production came from burning biomass contributing towards reducing coal burning for power generation to just  1.8% in 2020 from  28.2% in 2010. That is an astonishing achievement in a decade. Something which isn't celebrated enough.   At the same time, we must remember how far we still have to go to decarbonise. Biomass is a bit of a double edged sword as well. Although it is ultimately renewable, there is a time lag we must remember to appreciate. If you burn a tree today, all that carbon goes into the atmosphere today. However, for repl

I find myself increasingly wondering what a Net-Zero future might look like. Is such a future even possible?  Here in the UK, the government has signed a commitment for this country " to bring all greenhouse gas emissions to net zero by 2050 ". From where I'm standing at this moment on the cusp of 2023, to achieve this target feels almost farcical while simultaneously imperative. Some look to Cuba as a model for how to adapt. " The Power of Community: How Cuba Survived Peak Oil " takes this view. On the one hand, I find this documentary quite inspiring. One of its key messages seems to be that overcoming adversity has the power to bring us together for positive long lasting change. A pleasant thought when contemplating how to minimise and even survive climate change. On the other hand, is this documentary's message too simplistically idyllic to the point of misleading? Hmmm... I fear it might be... Let's examine Cuba as a case study. What caused the cr

This little article on my very first bridge graft attempt ended up in  Plymouth Tree Partnership's newsletter as well as  Orchard Link's newsletter so it only seems right to share it with you too. Enjoy! It is amazing how this humble conference pear tree in Central Park Community Orchard , Plymouth, Devon has garnered so much interest. Let me tell its story. It begins back in November 2021 when I began volunteering as an Orchard Keeper for Plymouth Tree Partnership. While tending the Community Orchard’s young trees, a constant battle against brambles, this particular pear caught my eye.  It possessed a nasty injury, from canker perhaps, almost girdling the trunk. Only a pinkie finger’s worth of bark remained. My first thought was simply to prune the tree back below this point. But, loppers in hand, I simply could not bring myself to do it. The tree just looked so alive above the wound. That is when I thought a bridge graft might just give this tree a fighting chance. I’d neve

  I was lucky enough to collect a windfall of medlar from a local tree a couple weeks ago. As you can see, they are an odd looking fruit that, due to there rather unfortunate shape, where known once as the open-arse.  Although not widely known today, in Medieval Europe, it was a prized fruit. So much so that Charlemagne , in 800AD, mandated that all his gardens grew them. The reason it was so loved is because of the season medlar ripen. The fruit are ready to harvest very late, at the end of November and into December. This is a time when little else sweet remains. Bizzarely, when you harvest them from the tree, they are still hard. Not edible at all. The windfall medlar I collected off the ground where the same. Rock hard. To ripen them, I layed them along a windowsill out of direct sunlight for a good couple weeks.  Medlar probably fell out of favour, and into downright obscurity, due to the strange way they ripen. Some liken it to rotting rather than ripening, which I personally t