The amount of care our wee fig tree requires would make the average person scratch their head.. but it is a labour of love.
After a summer of delightful figs, the weather turns colder and to survive, the tree is dug up and buried. The root ball is wrapped and the entire tree gingerly placed in the ground. Winter snow covers the earth leaving no trace of what lies beneath the surface, awaiting spring.
Once the risk of frost has passed, typically Easter weekend, another resurrection occurs. The fig tree is unearthed and again upright.
Growth under these conditions is slow and every fig, that ripens in the relatively short growing season, is revered. So special is that first fig, whoever gets to partake of it often has grounds for bragging rights.
This pale green beauty with a hint of mauve... and her partner, prosciutto di Parma, on the table signifies the season and soon we will bid adieu.
fino alla primavera prossimo..