Figaro - Growing Figs in Tucson
Not long after settling into our new place in Tucson, I discovered a garden center just down the street that specialized in native plants. Great! I could now start learning how to identify and name all the local desert flora. As I browsed the aisles and started noting names on the tags of the most interesting plants, I found my way over to the fruit tree section. Just beyond the lemons, oranges, and grapefruit trees, I spotted an aisle of trees that looked surprisingly familiar. Could they be? Was it possible? Was I really seeing rows of fig trees? Yes! They were truly fig trees. I had never expected to find fig trees growing in Tucson. It was early September, and the figs were just beginning to ripen. Unfortunately, some trees were infested with fig beetles. Fig beetles are gigantic iridescent purplish black things the size of a cockroach. When they begin to feast on a fig, they swarm on that one precious fig until they are hanging from it like a bunch of deep purple grapes. That's why I was not sure I was actually seeing a fig tree.
Figs are another connection to my childhood and my Italian grandparents. When I was growing up, my grandparents and every one of my relatives had a fig tree growing in their backyard. I remember picking figs and eating them right off the tree. If your only connection to figs is a Fig Newton cookie, you cannot fully appreciate the sweetness and texture of a freshly picked fig. To me, they are indescribably delicious.
When I lived in New Jersey, I made several attempts to grow my own fig tree so that I could enjoy fresh figs each fall. I did my research and planted a hardy variety of fig that was guaranteed to thrive in New Jersey - if I made sure to cover it each winter to protect it from freezing temperatures. My Italian neighbor had his own well-established fig tree and no longer felt the need to heavily prune it and cover it at the end of each growing season. So, he bequeathed to me his fig blankets. Each November, I religiously clothed my little fig tree in its green flannel blanket and heavy canvas shroud until spring of the following year. My fig tree survived for about ten years, but never produced more than 4 or 5 small figs a season. I had to be quick to pick these little gems or the ants would devour them. A ripe sweet fig drips little beads of sugar syrup that seem to immediately bring out the ants.
Of course, now that I knew that fig trees could thrive in this desert climate, I had to have my very own. I quickly selected a five-foot sapling and planted it in our tiny backyard, right in front of our back wall and in line with the back door, so that I could keep an eye on it at all times. My fig tree was the first addition to our new landscape. I named him Figaro and began to dream about fig pies, fig preserves, figs in cream, figs wrapped in prosciutto....; while Jim kept watch that I didn't kill the little guy by over watering or under watering him. The local hummingbirds were the first ones to appreciate this new addition to our backyard, as Jim placed a hummingbird feeder on one of its young limbs. We now had something to look at besides the blank brick wall that separates our backyard from the alley behind our house.
Walled-in backyards are a common phenomenon all over Tucson and most communities in the southwest. It was very hard to get used to going out into the backyard and not being able to see across to our neighbors' property. The walls serve to keep out the Javalinas and other desert creatures.
The idea of having an alley on the other side of the wall was another new experience. City Planners used to believe that unpaved alleys were a convenient way to pick up residential trash and a good place to locate utilities like, water, gas, electricity, phone and cable. Unfortunately, what may have seemed like a great idea in the 1950's is not so wonderful today. The huge trucks that now cruise the back alleys stir up great clouds of dust that settle on backyards and patio furniture. The trucks destroy landscaping that residents place on the outside of their walls, and often times they run over cable and phone junction boxes. At least twice a year, the cable company has to repair neighborhood connections and replace the junction box behind our house. These once "charming" little dirt roads where neighborhood children used to ride their bicycles and use as shortcuts, are now choked with overgrown weeds and deep pot holes. They often become convenient places for people to dump old furniture and garden refuse. The City discontinued designing new neighborhoods with alleys in the early 1980's, allowing for larger backyards.
Our back wall stands about 6 feet tall. I am able to gaze up at the tops of trees and telephone poles. I can glimpse the evening sunsets but cannot see the horizon or the mountain tops. Tucson backyards are where people spend most of their time, although you would never know it. Behind those walls can be found sparkling swimming pools and amazing green lawns, gardens of cactus, fruit trees, roses and native annual blooming plants.
From our backyard covered patio, we enjoy watching the comings and goings of hummingbirds, white-winged doves, a local resident hawk, along with a few bats at dusk. To really appreciate the dazzling pink skies at sunset or the Catalina Mountains at sunrise, I step out the front door and look directly across the street. At some point, I hope to have a seating area in the front of the house where we can sit and watch the changing sky.
Figs are another connection to my childhood and my Italian grandparents. When I was growing up, my grandparents and every one of my relatives had a fig tree growing in their backyard. I remember picking figs and eating them right off the tree. If your only connection to figs is a Fig Newton cookie, you cannot fully appreciate the sweetness and texture of a freshly picked fig. To me, they are indescribably delicious.
When I lived in New Jersey, I made several attempts to grow my own fig tree so that I could enjoy fresh figs each fall. I did my research and planted a hardy variety of fig that was guaranteed to thrive in New Jersey - if I made sure to cover it each winter to protect it from freezing temperatures. My Italian neighbor had his own well-established fig tree and no longer felt the need to heavily prune it and cover it at the end of each growing season. So, he bequeathed to me his fig blankets. Each November, I religiously clothed my little fig tree in its green flannel blanket and heavy canvas shroud until spring of the following year. My fig tree survived for about ten years, but never produced more than 4 or 5 small figs a season. I had to be quick to pick these little gems or the ants would devour them. A ripe sweet fig drips little beads of sugar syrup that seem to immediately bring out the ants.
Of course, now that I knew that fig trees could thrive in this desert climate, I had to have my very own. I quickly selected a five-foot sapling and planted it in our tiny backyard, right in front of our back wall and in line with the back door, so that I could keep an eye on it at all times. My fig tree was the first addition to our new landscape. I named him Figaro and began to dream about fig pies, fig preserves, figs in cream, figs wrapped in prosciutto....; while Jim kept watch that I didn't kill the little guy by over watering or under watering him. The local hummingbirds were the first ones to appreciate this new addition to our backyard, as Jim placed a hummingbird feeder on one of its young limbs. We now had something to look at besides the blank brick wall that separates our backyard from the alley behind our house.
Walled-in backyards are a common phenomenon all over Tucson and most communities in the southwest. It was very hard to get used to going out into the backyard and not being able to see across to our neighbors' property. The walls serve to keep out the Javalinas and other desert creatures.
The idea of having an alley on the other side of the wall was another new experience. City Planners used to believe that unpaved alleys were a convenient way to pick up residential trash and a good place to locate utilities like, water, gas, electricity, phone and cable. Unfortunately, what may have seemed like a great idea in the 1950's is not so wonderful today. The huge trucks that now cruise the back alleys stir up great clouds of dust that settle on backyards and patio furniture. The trucks destroy landscaping that residents place on the outside of their walls, and often times they run over cable and phone junction boxes. At least twice a year, the cable company has to repair neighborhood connections and replace the junction box behind our house. These once "charming" little dirt roads where neighborhood children used to ride their bicycles and use as shortcuts, are now choked with overgrown weeds and deep pot holes. They often become convenient places for people to dump old furniture and garden refuse. The City discontinued designing new neighborhoods with alleys in the early 1980's, allowing for larger backyards.
Our back wall stands about 6 feet tall. I am able to gaze up at the tops of trees and telephone poles. I can glimpse the evening sunsets but cannot see the horizon or the mountain tops. Tucson backyards are where people spend most of their time, although you would never know it. Behind those walls can be found sparkling swimming pools and amazing green lawns, gardens of cactus, fruit trees, roses and native annual blooming plants.
From our backyard covered patio, we enjoy watching the comings and goings of hummingbirds, white-winged doves, a local resident hawk, along with a few bats at dusk. To really appreciate the dazzling pink skies at sunset or the Catalina Mountains at sunrise, I step out the front door and look directly across the street. At some point, I hope to have a seating area in the front of the house where we can sit and watch the changing sky.
Wow. I loved reading this post. I, too, hail from an italian background...and New Jersey for that matter...and I am now living in Tucson.
ReplyDeleteI found your blog doing a google search for tips for planting a fig tree in tucson. How funny.