MEMORIES of my youth way back in time in the Riverina. Riding my pony bareback round the roads, one of my favorite things to do was to reach out from his back and raid a neighbour’s loquat tree.
Loquats are a small fruit, golden in colour, and have a sweet tangy taste, a large seed and are delicious. Not common nowadays, with people preferring the more recognizable fruits.
So when we moved here some years ago, I found one – quite expensive, in the local Mitre 10, and with thoughts of previous childhood delights, I planted it anticipating fruit. Eight years! Eight long painful long years!
This loquat tree has been the bane of my life. It grew beautifully in a lovely shape, but each and every year – not one fruit – not one.
Talk about disappointment. I looked it up on Google, to make sure it was in the right condition, was I feeding it right, and was I watering it right, but nothing.
Supposedly they take time to fruit and I got excited when a couple of years back it produced some flowers, but nothing. I became angry.
It has been shown the shovel twice but steadfastly declined to offer me even one of the fruit of my childhood.
It’s supposed to fruit in spring and I have peered into its leaves in hope without the slightest success – for eight years.
But in this strange and peculiar season with its peculiar weather, odd things are happening.
When my ever-reliable epi cactus flowered as usual in November and for some strange reason again had flowers on it in late March —-the loquat tree – totally out of season – has flowers. LOTS of flowers.
I intended to rush out and buy a white stocking to put over the branch to prevent any errant bird from stealing what maybe the treasure of a lifetime but then, in this time of sparse fodder for small creatures, I discovered that the hungry local bees had also found the flowers and were feasting all over them, so I left them to it.
However, if this is a false alarm and the blossoms drop off without fruiting you are more than welcome to attend the funeral of an attractive tree that should’ve given fruit but instead caused untold distress to the person who planted it.
Maybe I should stick to growing flowers.
