Victoria Secret

The summer is come and gone all too quickly. There is already a sharp chill in the air and although only 7pm it is distinctly dark and morose outside. It will not be long before the clocks change and we will be going to and returning from work in the dark.

The summer months were slow to get going and with June and July almost a write off because of the persistently wet and stormy weather which  affected all of the usual seasonal activities of tending the garden, enjoying a few moments of sitting out or even contemplating a trip out to the coast or a countryside walk.

August did come to the rescue of an otherwise washed out high season and for the first time in many years there was a guarantee of successive good days in terms of warm sunshine and dry weather. This was not to everyone's benefit as what was termed "the wettest drought in history" led to hosepipe bans in many parts of the UK.

I try to prolong summer as much as possible. I look forward to getting up early, even on weekdays, to enjoy that fresh start to the day before it gets too hot. I equally savour a long evening of approaching coolness and sunset when it is just nice and civilised to spend time outdoors doing everything or nothing.

One of the last events of the summer is to harvest the Victoria Plums from our sole tree at the bottom of the garden. We planted a sapling some 16 years ago as a project with our young children and also in acknowledgement that we had found out true family home that met and exceeded all our material requirements. Oh, and it was intended to form a screen from neighbours when fully grown.

For the first decade of growth the tree struggled to establish itself. It was a good location to receive sunlight and rainfall and with reasonable shelter from extreme climatic periods. We all crowded around the slim trunk with the first indications of it bearing fruit and would regularly stray down to the far end of the garden to monitor the growth and health of the small and hard olive sized plums.

As the hotter months of the year passed in the inaugral year of maturing the fruit swelled and slowly turned colour from green to a deep purpley red. We returned from our annual 2 weeks leave to find the upper boughs split and hanging down limply under the sheer weight of the sumptious plums. This was distressing to see but the tree was strong enough to survive the inevitable major amputation of the dead weight of wood.

That year we did not know what to do with the masses of fruit. Jam was attempted but remained a bit runny. Kilner jars were filled with liquer and then stuffed with the softer fruits to undergo some sort of transformation to an even more potent alcoholic level. Donations were made to family and friends and we even thought, at one stage, of leaving a boxfull at the driveway gates with an honesty tin for payment if unsupervised by the children. The gardener from a large house, when hearing of our predicament, offered to harvest the still laden upper boughs in return for a precentage of the plunder. His offer was enthusiatically accepted and by early September the tree was bare.

After shedding what was a significant weight the boughs seemed to breathe a sigh and slowly return to their natural height and form.

Every year since the tree has performed well and today, well into September, saw me bring down to the house the last bowlful of the plums. The tail enders were a mixture of firm and sweet ones and those perhaps a bit past their best by their soft and  dull texture. The wasps and insects had feasted well on the tree but not to a noticeable detriment to our domestic quota. The obvious drilled and holed plums could be avoided  but even an apparently perfect and unblemished one could still surprise with a cluster of larvae or maggots if hastily bitten into or more advisably, cut in half and examined before eating.

All is now safely gathered in and the tree will revert to anonymity until the next growing season. This may be the last harvest from our planted tree as our house is currently up for sale and we are in that life cycle process of trading down. It has been most satisfying and humbling watching the development of our Victoria Plum and a constant reminder of the natural order of things. If we do eventually get moved I will be sure to drive past the old house in late August to check on the crop. It is possible to enter the garden unseen from an adjacent street and over a neighbours fence although with a ladder and large bucket I will have to time my scrumping expedition carefully and meticulously.