Fruit Thieves!

Even if you’re good at growing your own food, bad weather or thieves could steal your harvest: everything you planned for winter provisions. Fruit thieves struck the homestead this summer.

This year, our most productive apple tree had set a bumper crop. We planted several other varieties nearby and the other-varieties of pollen must have really agreed with that one tree. The others, while they flowered, did not set any fruit. They were a bit young, so it was not surprising. Next year should be better.

It was looking like pear-preserves this fall too. This was the second year for some young pear trees we planted. They flowered last year but yielded nothing. This year, one of them set so many pears that I had to tie up the spindly branches to keep them from bending over to the point of breaking off.

Everything was looking wonderful. Visions of apple pies and canned pears danced through my head. But, rather like not counting chickens before they hatch, one should not start counting jars of preserves before the harvest.

One day, we went out to see how the apples were doing and they were all gone!

They were not simply knocked on the ground. They were completely gone — even the ones on the high and thin branches. Too high for a deer. Too thin of branches to hold up a raccoon. Suspecting squirrels, I set up a motion alarm at the pear tree. It still had eleven plump (but unripe) pears on it. The alarm sounded a couple times but with no culprit in sight. The next day, every pear was gone too!

The starving (furry) hordes

Last year had been a big year for red oak acorns. This must have led to a huge surge in the gray squirrel population. Many people had commented on how many dead squirrels there were on the roads this summer. The red oaks produced almost nothing this year. The hordes of gray squirrels were starving and ravaging anything edible.

Another clue to the starving squirrel plight was all the walnut shell debris. This was the first year I had seen black walnut rinds strewn about the property. The only black walnut I know of is across the stream and up the hill. Never before had I seen black walnut debris piles around the homestead. Starving squirrels were dragging them all the way over here to gnaw through the husk and tough shell (for not much meat).

The squirrels needed to be harvested too and should have been. The Dear Wife, however, wanted a break from squirrel stew. So, I did not pursue them as vigorously as usual. In hindsight, I should have.

Too late to save this year’s fruit harvest, I began thinning the herd. I’ve gotten most of the stupid ones — those that run a short distance and look back to see if I was still after them. Or, those that climb a tree and perch on a branch thinking they’re out of reach. Not the case. Unfortunately, the remaining squirrels are the smarter ones that know to run like hell and never look back. I get only a glimpse.

I shall persist in thinning the thieving hordes, upping the game as necessary. It is a pre-emptive strike to protect next year’s apples.

One self-sufficiency lesson that was driven home in all this, is that something could wipe out your season’s crops. Reserves are crucial. Save any ‘extra’ for possible lean times or crop failures. In “The Year Without A Summer,” almost all crops in New England failed. Some farmers had reserves from prior harvests to tide them over. Plan for failures.

Another lesson in this was the need to guard and protect your crops. There might be human thieves. Animal thieves are out there too. If the crop is critical, do not assume it is safe.

Next year’s Apple Protection Plan will involve pre-emptive measures to ensure there are fewer potential furry theives.