LANDSCAPE AND GARDEN IDEAS IN/FOR FLORIDA
The pledge of white trees
An old orchard with painted bark. Picture from Dreamstime
You may have happened to see tree trunks that have been painted
white. Well, probably not if you live in places where the winters are
mild, but certainly if you live in the north of Europe. In fact, I often
used to be surprised that I had never seen anyone in southern Italy
whitening tree trunks with lime the way they did every year in Poland.
At the beginning of winter, around December, my grandfather began
going round the orchard with a big bucket of slaked lime, and covering
the trunks of all the fruit trees with a thick white layer. The fruit
trees of the village brightened up and there was a clean smell in the
air, Perhaps it was just that smell that made many people think that the
main purpose in painting the trees white was to disinfect them and
protect them against parasites and diseases.
In actual fact this
process serves to protect the tree against sudden changes in temperature
caused by the daytime sun’s rays. The tissues of the tree, heated up
during the day become very susceptible to frost and to the low
temperatures during the night. This is especially important during the
period between winter and spring when the increasing temperatures in the
daytime stimulate the process of regrowth, as the trees are liable to
most damage from late frosts. With the white layer of lime, the
temperature inside the tree remains low and regrowth is delayed until
frosts become less likely.
Quite apart from these practical
aspects, I remember this painting the trees white above all because of
the aesthetic effect it produces. In the grayness of the long north
European winters, when there is not always snow to soften the
landscapes, the stark white trunks of the fruit trees were a very
welcome sight for sore eyes. Particularly in the orchards of the past,
so very different than the ones nowadays with their low standardized
aspect. In old-time orchards the trees were twisted and had stories to
tell. Stories about trees, handed down from one generation to another,
about trees looked after lovingly for years, about precious margots
exchanged among friends and kept jealously away from enemies. About
knees being grazed and clothes torn when you slid down the trunk, and
falling off the step-ladders placed precariously to reach the branches
farthest away where the fruit was riper and tastier.
Orchards
with their trees of varied shape and height, but planted in straight
lines, often interspersed with bushes of redcurrants, white currants and
blackcurrants, gooseberries and raspberries, were a precious,
inseparable part of every village in the countryside until just a few
decades ago. And at the only moment of the year when the trees lost
their leaves and their fruit, and so their prime purpose as a source of
nourishment, painting them white seemed to give them back that touch of
importance that made them different than other trees and emphasized how
precious they were for people. And the sculpted shapes of the white
trunks, standing out even more clearly against the gray backdrop of the
ploughed fields, seemed to whisper to us children: “be patient a bit
longer, we’re here sheltering, but before very long you’ll be able to
climb us again and collect our treasures”.
An old orchard in spring. Picture from Dreamstime
