NEWS
A Conversation about Fruit
This morning, as the last few days of April swirl past, I walked through a blizzard of white. Not snow, although it isn't unheard of even this late, but petals from cherry blossoms on an adjacent tree. Naturally, being a food-oriented type, I looked forward to harvesting the fruit later in the year. And thought about how busy that tree was in its process. Once the petals are disposed of, the tiny fruit begin to develop, passing through a series of predictable phases on the way to harvest.
A little further down the road my attention was drawn by a branch chock full of small samaras amid a few unfolding leaves. A samara is the fancy word that describes maple fruit, or, as some of us know them, “helicopters” because of their behavior when they are ready to drop from the mother tree. In the vast maple (AKA Acer) family, there are subdivisions according to how early or late the samaras form. This one is probably a red maple, and a type that flowers early.
Around the corner from the maple is a group of big spruce trees. The ground is covered with what looks like a cross between strawberries and teeny pine cones. They are soft, and some spill out pollen when I pick them up. These are male “flowers”, called strobili. The pollen is meant for their female counterpart, which grow at the same time on the same tree (yes, I had to Google it.)
Further along my trail, I came across an Elm bursting with papery discs that serve the same purpose as the strobili and the samaras. These are also a seed dispersal engine. Those of us who live among a large population of elms see the scattered discs late in the season and usually mistake them for fallen leaflets. Now, when I think of fruit, I more often think of berries. But most of the commonest wild berries are just beginning to flower and are on a slightly later timetable because they need more solar heat and power to build. Blueberries and strawberries are full of cheer and optimism right now, but won't be ready to eat for weeks.
Readiness to eat is the basis of my definition of fruit, so the maple and spruce seem like odd choices until you consider who the diners are. Squirrels and mice are obvious candidates, but remember that many birds are freshly arrived and very hungry. Watch the activity in a tree for awhile. You'll see birds feasting on both the “fruit” and the insects that seek their own meals as well.
Human foragers are definitely omnivores (that means they'll eat everything), and over time have no doubt tasted everything I'm talking about. The practice of foraging is newly popular among a wide range of people. Your local nature and conservation groups, as well as your county's Cooperative Extension conduct frequent foraging walks. The target vegetation varies from week to week, as nature continues through the seasons with each plant and animal following its own timetable in sequence. The elm I referred to above is apparently considered an absolute gourmet delight. Tomorrow I'll taste one.
The podcast, “Nature Calls, Conversations from the Hudson Valley,” has an episode about foraging with Cooperative Extension Specialist Tracey Testo, and it was recorded about this time of year.