Digging a Hole

I usually need some good tools when I dig a hole, a shovel with a sharp edge and a strong pick ax. Or my husband. Or all of these. My heavy clay soil is riveted with limestone rocks. Whenever I plant something in a new area I am almost guaranteed the work will be grueling, entailing sweat and sore muscles. So when I recently planted my new Fuyu persimmon tree, I put a lot of thought into it.

I wanted it planted relatively close to the house, near a water source so I wouldn't have to haul buckets of water to keep it hydrated during extreme heat or draught. I bought my tree in a moment of passion, without careful planning. (I did a similar thing with my voodoo plant, and I'm still waiting to see how that turns out.) The fact is, there wasn't a good place near the house for my persimmon tree, unless I sacrificed my herb bed or vegetable plot. Can't do that. I agonized for weeks, while my persimmon tree languished in its pot.

I finally turned my eyes outward, to other parts of the property. I decided on a spot on the lower lawn, spaced between my pistache tree and a Japanese maple near the front of the property - a long way from the house, but not too far from a water faucet at the edge of our lot.

I brought all of my digging tools and my husband for reinforcement. Lou put the tree in a wheelbarrow and pushed it down to the lower lawn. Then he took the shovel and rammed it into the dirt. It bounced back as though it had hit concrete. The grass was sparse in this spot for a reason. I sighed, and the persimmon tree looked on, horrified.

"I don't think my persimmon tree's roots will do very well here."

"What about over there?" Lou pointed across the road to the field in front of the woodland garden. It was wide open with full sun.

"I don't know. It's a long way from the water faucet." I was thinking about those heavy buckets of water.

Nevertheless, we walked over, and Lou stuck the shovel into the ground. It cut through the grass into deep, dark earth. No sweat involved.

The persimmon tree looked at the rich soil and began chanting, Plant Me Here, Plant Me Here.

So that's what we did. In no time at all Lou had dug a hole the depth of the tree's pot and three times its width. About eight inches down he did hit red clay, and a couple inches deeper was a big rock. But the clay was soft enough, and there was only one rock, which came out without blasting caps. We loosened the tree's roots from the root ball before settling it into the hole. We combined the native earth we had removed with some organic potting soil and then returned the mixture to the hole, gently shoveling it around the root ball. 

Then I hauled a couple buckets of water down the road to water it in. I can live with it. I am already tasting those delicious Fuyu persimmons, come next fall. The tree has promised me a good production, because it really likes its new home.I will prune my newly planted Fuyu Persimmon next month.

Update, December, 2011: I was a fool for Fuyu! It turns out this tree was mislabeled! I got a Tamopan persimmon, an Astringent Asian variety. Quite beautiful, and it will stay. But I still want a Fuyu!

Persimmon: The Fruit of the Gods

I was obsessed after my first ever bite of persimmon. It happened yesterday morning. Before that first taste, I had no idea. They aren't commonly available in grocery stores here, and, though persimmon trees grow in the South, I've never known anyone who grew one. But all of that changed after I tasted a sample slice of Fuyu persimmon.

Fuyu persimmons are deliciously sweet. I've analyzed my taste buds and twisted my mind trying to describe the taste. A bit like cantaloupe, combined with peachy, pear flavors. Maybe pumpkin? Unique, for sure! I can understand why the ancient Greeks called persimmon "the fruit of the gods". I bought a basket of Fuyu persimmons, and within a couple of hours I had bought a tree, too!

I've learned there are two kinds of persimmons: astringent and non astringent. The astringent varieties have to be eaten when fully ripe, when the fruit is soft and the interior has a jelly-like consistency. The non astringent varieties, including Fuyu, can be eaten when the fruit has a firm texture as well as when it has softened. My Fuyus are still firm, like an apple. I will have to wait to see if I like them as much once they have softened.

Fuyus can keep at room temperature for several weeks when they are firm. Once they have softened, however, they need to be eaten within a few days. They are very high in Vitamins A and C and are a good source of potassium too.

Fuyu persimmons are beautiful and combined with greenery make great holiday decorations. They are shaped like tomatoes, but they also remind me of little pumpkins. Here's a photo of my basket of Fuyus (missing one I already ate!) and below is a slice showing the pretty interior pattern:The tree will hold its fruit in late autumn, after all its leaves are gone, and a tree laden with the orange globes is an amazing sight. I wonder if my tree someday will be as lovely as this tree in Nakagawa, Nanyo City, Japan:photo courtesy of WikimediaGrowing in popularity, persimmon trees are a low maintenance fruit tree. They need no spraying and little fertilizer, though they do like a fair amount of water. Fuyus will grow in zones 7-9, but different varieties may be found for zone 5, up to zone 10.

By the way, wildlife likes this fruit as much as humans. My tree is large enough to produce persimmons next year. The squirrels and other critters had better leave some for me, or else there will be a battle coming!