Our fig tree in the front garden is a legend in many ways apart from the most useful one. I planted a fig tree in my garden when I lived in Devon back in 1992, then when I moved to Cornwall I took cuttings from this tree and planted one of these cuttings in our now front garden. So all in all, it is about 24 years old. It is a beautiful tree that fits perfectly among the herbs, and the birds love to sit in its now tall branches. With its vividly green leaves reaching up towards a deep blue summer sky, it is evocative of warmer Mediterranean climes. Its amazing looks have inspired requests from friends and family for cuttings which are now growing in various locations around the country. This is where the legend ends though, as in all those 24 years it hasn't bothered to give us any edible figs.....that is until now!
The aesthetics of the fig tree have been mostly lost on Phil, especially in light of the lack of edible rewards and he had only just recently been suggesting that the large space could be better used. I have despairingly watched each year as the new figs load the tree only for them to either not ripen or be blown off in our strong coastal winds. My excuses to keep it there had pretty much run out and then as if by magic, 'figgy' suddenly comes through.
There sat right in the middle of the deep foliage was a big fig. Each night when I went to put out my 'badger, please leave our veg alone offering' I would have a squeeze, daring not to mention too soon to Phil that I think finally we had a winner. Then a couple of evenings ago I took him out there to show him, and this evening we finally tasted it. Magic is the word that springs to mind. It was delicious. We are not sure what has been different this year and why 'figgy' decided to finally grow this fruity offering, but let's just say he will thankfully be remaining and we have every hope that this may be just the beginning of even more figgy delights in years to come.