Crunch time for apples

EARLY this week I knew that the apples in the orchard were ready for picking. Was it my natural horticultural sensors finely tuned into the gardening seasons that told me this, or a particular phase of the moon, or perhaps the fact that the skies screamed with a swallow-less emptiness announcing the arrival of winter's short days?

No. It was the fact that I have firmly, but politely been informing a trail of passers-by that the little group of trees, dripping with crisp, fruity bounty is in fact private property and not a communal free-for-all orchard. It has even been fenced off from the nearby public footpath that bounds the land as a result of last year's scrumpers. I really don't mind people picking the odd apple, but it is when they break down parts of the fence, walk over shrubs, break branches, leave the gates open and strip every piece of fruit from every tree that I start to get annoyed.

Things haven't been too bad this year though, as I didn't strim the grass in between the trees. I decided to let nature takes its course and see what effect that would have on the final haul. I also knew that a short-eared owl had taken up residence in the orchard somewhere and didn't want to disturb it. These are ground nesting owls, with a huge wingspan, that are more often than not seen hovering over meadow lands during daylight hours. They are breathtaking to watch, as they complete their intricate manoeuvres in complete silence, and for such a big bird that is an amazing feat. What is even better is that I have had the fortune of being able to observe the owls from my sitting room window.

That is also the post from which I have also watched the roe deer bring up her fawn over the summer. They too seemed to take advantage of the long growth in the orchard.

In fact, it was the deer tracks that I followed when I made my foray into the orchard to collect some of my apples. The small stream that stands between me and the orchard was flowing gently, as it does for most of the year, so I only needed a pair of wellies to ford it. Earlier this year it had broken its banks and would have washed me, and half a dozen mature trees downstream and into the River Tees.

Fortunately, I had pulled on a pair of tough waterproof trousers and a padded anorak. It seemed a bit over the top at the time, as the sun was shining and the air was warm. I sweated as I made my way up from the stream to the bottom of the orchard, not because the face of the hill that the trees stand on is steep, but because I was struggling through Himalayan balsam, docks and nettles.

My hair was full of sprung' balsam seeds, and I collected the red dock heads in every seam and pocket. The sticky buds of the burdock clung to my cuffs and nettles rattled my knuckles.

IWAS pleasantly surprised to find that when I did make it through to the apple trees that they were clothed in pest-free fruit. The cookers, Howgate wonder and Bramleys, were large and devoid of their usual stalk-hugging earwigs.

The eaters, Worcester pearmain, discovery and cox's orange pippin weren't scabbed, corked or filled with moths and maggots as they had been last year.

On further investigation (it is compulsory to try at least one apple from every tree) they were crisp to the bite, fresh and sweet to the taste and juicy in the mouth. Only one tree, a Discovery on the edge of the orchard, showed any sign of being afflicted by pest activity. It was a small apple tree that bore medium sized, bright red fruit. These were the sweetest variety in the orchard. Every single apple had teeth marks in it. Some were only nibbles, but others were eaten half way to the core. They all still clung on by their stalks though, which resulted in a strange looking tree indeed. This could only have been caused by two things; a group of youngsters having a laugh, or deer. My money was on the latter.

For all the amusement and wonder that the deer had given me throughout the year I couldn't begrudge them a few bites of apple.

I waded back across the stream with my bags heavy with fruit. I collected more burrs and stings on the way, but didn't mind as I had unequivocally proved that you are more likely to get a greater crop of healthy fruit by not tending to the orchard. I still hadn't pinpointed whether this was because human, animal and insect predators are simply put off scrumping by the effort involved of having to struggle through the undergrowth, or that the fruit trees are encouraged to grow more productively surrounded by the weedy jungle.

JOBS THIS WEEK<</p>

REPLACE the plants in summer hanging baskets and pots with autumn interest such as ground cover miniature roses, skimmias, sweet box, dogwoods and black grass.

RIPEN green tomatoes by cutting them off at the end of the vine or stem and hanging them upside down in a dry, warm, sunny place. With individuals, place them on dry straw under glass or in a greenhouse/ conservatory.

PLANT strawberries in ground that has been manured. Take off any runners and pot them up for planting out next spring.

*Brigid presents the BBC Tees Gardening show every Sunday from 1- 2pm. Questions can be answered on the day by emailing brigidpress@bbc.co.uk anytime during the week, or texting 07786- 200995 and phoning 01642-225511 during the show.

Alternatively, try popping into Houghall Garden Centre in Durham with any specimen problems.