March 12, 2026

New grafts waiting to callus

The season for bench-grafting is near. We won’t do ours for another three weeks, but some folks have already been slicing away. The question has come up: “What do I do with my newly grafted trees?”

Here’s what we do:

  • Immediately after grafting, we place the trees in a 5-gallon bucket of water, submerging the roots (but NOT the graft). A 5-gallon bucket will fit up to 50 newly grafted trees.

  • Within a day we remove the trees from the bucket of water and place them in a bucket of damp sawdust. Potting soil or wood shavings will work as well. We cover the roots, jiggling the bucket to get the sawdust to work its way around and make contact with the roots, then water them in. The medium should be damp but not waterlogged enough to rot the roots. Again as many as 50 trees can fit in a five-gallon bucket. For just a couple of trees, a large flower pot or small pail will do.

  • We put the bucket in a warm spot out of direct sun in our living room.

  • Over the course of the next couple of weeks, the grafts will callus (fuse) and begin to grow. It’s like magic. 

  • Once the days are warmer we move the buckets out onto a covered porch each morning and bring them back inside at night. We continue to keep them out of direct sun for most of the day. The trees will grow slowly, which is good so they aren’t “leggy” when we set them in the nursery.

  • Once the coldest nights have passed (about mid-May in central Maine), we plant the trees about 12” apart in a “nursery row” where they will live for one or two growing seasons. During this time, we keep the trees weed-free. We also water them and fertilize as needed.

  • One or two years after grafting, we dig up the dormant trees (any time before about May 1 in central Maine) and replant them in their final spot. We even send them through the mail, as long as they are dormant.

Today was cold, dank, wet and raw. I spent the morning indoors looking at apples that I collected last fall in the Bucksport area from some old trees. In the afternoon I continued pruning in the Old Orchard. It felt wonderful to be outside. 

March 10 & 11 2026

The heatwave continued on the 10th, but rain and cold returned on the 11th. The first robins appeared on this morning on the Sargent Crab in our front yard. That’s the famous small-fruited, low-statured Malus sargentii with undulating, pretzel-form branches. Our scionwood came from the old tree at the front gate of Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, MA. It’s an incredible tree, only about 15 feet high and 40 feet across. I was tempted to steal a stick of scionwood years ago, but I decided to go legit and asked them. They were generous to let me take a foot or two. Now we have it here.

Could this be the true Brigg’s Auburn apple tree? Poland ME, March 11, 2026.

Cammy continued pruning out in the BRC. I did a few meetings on the 10th and gave a talk on the 11th in Topsham--land of the Givens apple--to a large, enthusiastic group at the Topsham Library. En route I did some scion-collecting in Poland and Cumberland. In Poland I collected scions from what I hope is the true Brigg’s Auburn apple tree. I can’t believe it. I’ve been looking for it for over 25 years. Sean Turley found the tree a couple years ago. We’ve done a DNA analysis, and, although I’m not 100% convinced yet, I do think we have probably found it. What a great moment. Thank you Sean.

All this on International Johnny Appleseed Day (or something like that). Why March 11?  Apparently that’s the day he died. (Yikes). Anyway, every day is a good day to celebrate  apples.      

March 8 & 9, 2026

The A-Team

Suddenly it has gotten very warm. We hit 60F both of the last two days. The paths, the driveway and the road are turning to mud. The front lawn is now snow-free. The orchards are still covered with snow, but the fields up the road are bare. The world is changing fast.

On Sunday the 8th our A-team assembled for our on-going building project. We’re shingling a new cabin we’ve been working on since last summer. There were no cold hands. Jackets were tossed aside for the first time in months. Not only that, we got a lot done.

On the 9th Cammy and I pruned much of the day. She in the BRC orchard and me with the (ugh) chainsaw in the old Orchard. I don’t use the chainsaw much on the fruit trees, but it is useful to go over some of the older trees each year and cut out a large limb here and there. I’m a proponent of the “lite-touch.” After all the apple trees did fine without us for 3 or 4 million years with no pruning at all other than that provided by hungry bears, persistent porcupines, and the occasional windy day. We’ll be seriously into pruning most of the rest of the month. Whoopee!      

March 7, 2026

A basketful of scions

It’s not too late to order scionwood, but as March zooms along, the window for collecting scionwood is drawing towards its inevitable conclusion. We’re still cutting and will be for the next two weeks. If you’re interested in wood for grafting, please check out our list and place an order now. We also have an assortment of apple and pear trees for sale. Check them out too if you have a chance. 

Also, keep in mind that the 29th Seed Swap and Scion Exchange at MOFGA is on the last Sunday in March. It‘s exceedingly fun.

Speaking of which, I spent a chunk of today sorting scionwood. I double (or triple) bag it in plastic garbage bags and then store it in the basement where it’s about 45F. 40F would be even better, but 45 is fine. No need to wet it down or wrap it in damp cloths or paper towels. Never put it in the freezer!.

It rained early and was above freezing all day, though it never hit 40. It won’t be long until we can’t walk on the ponds. So we’re pruning back vegetation along the edges while we still have good access. March goes by too fast!

March 6, 2026

Embrace March

If you love the orchard, you know that March is the shortest month of the year—and the most wonderful. Sadly, it’s already a fifth of the way done. How does it go by so fast? It’s like a swirling whitewater stream in… spring. Or the slippery slope down an icy mountain. Or maybe just a tornado.

The calendarists say that February is the shortest month and that 30 days hath September, April, June and November and all that. But March has them all beat in the shortest department. March 1st arrives, you open the door, step out into the month, blink a few times and it’s over. The days are suddenly long, yet there’s not enough hours to get all the spring chores done - even if I get up early, go to bed late and am outside all day long in the sun, melting snow and the mud. Prune prune prune! Cut wood! Start seeds! Boil sap! Collect scions! 

It could be that March is so short because I thought I had lots of time to do all that stuff in December, January and February and now—darn it—all those days are gone. Soon I’ll be digging trees again. So let others go to the islands and sit on the beach. I won’t miss them. I’m too busy here, swinging from apple trees, soaking in those glorious, windy, sunny, snowy, muddy, fleeting days of March.

March 5, 2026

Cosmic forces are coming to an orchard near you!

The warm-up begins. It’s nearly impossible to imagine that just a few short weeks ago it was -20F. Now it’s pushing +40. Cammy spent much of the day pruning in the “BRC” where battling back blackberry and raspberry canes is about 80% of the effort and 20% (or maybe 10%) is pruning the actual trees.

For me it was day two of the Stump Sprouts apple round-table. More inspiring talk, including a brief presentation on the philosophical foundation of Biodynamics, with a focus on the influences—in-streaming cosmic forces—coming into the orchard from Outer Space. This is where rigorous science meets some really way-out thinking. Scientists know this is happening and so did Rudolf Steiner and Sun Ra. The world (and space) is an amazing place.  

March 4, 2026

Pruning season

I left New Haven and drove up to western MA for the annual, apple-orchardists round-table known as “Stumpsprouts”. It’s an informative, thought-provoking and fun event where 40 of us sit in a large circle overlooking the beautiful hills of Franklin County and talk about growing apples - for two days.

Some people say a lot (hopefully not too much), and others don’t say much at all (more, please). There’s no pressure either way. Often the person who doesn’t say much winds up sharing the most profound and valuable insights. Mostly it’s about getting inspired and jazzed up to try some new practices in the orchard. 

A few thoughts from this year’s meeting (some of them pretty far out there):

  • Farm as ecosystem

  • What animals and plants to add to the orchard

  • Paramagnetism in the orchard

  • The trap of repeatability (wow)

  • Out of the impossibility (double wow)

  • The influences coming into the orchard from Outer Space (in-streaming cosmic forces)

  • Suctional space (Yes, suctional)

  • The fourth phase of water

Lots to think about as I headed north on the long drive home. Meanwhile Cammy was pruning our BRC orchard. Way more practical!

March 3, 2026

“… it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today.”  (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone p6.)

John and hi sisters, Jane and Kathy, with the wise old Hooty Owl, Siesta Key, FL, 1954

After my encounter with the Barred Owl yesterday, Iearned that at least two of our friends in the area had similar encounters with owls recently. Could it be that the wise old owls are telling us something? As readers of the Harry Potter books know, owls play a vital role in all seven books. A very different Harry Potter is our neighbor just a bit up the road, and it was that Harry Potter who sold us the land we call “Finley Lane.” 

We live in an amazing world. A world of direct experience and imagination. Our imagination can trap us in fear, desire, disappointment. “What if it doesn’t rain this summer and the trees all die?” “What if it’s 20F during bloom?” “What if fire blight comes back?” So many things to fear. So many things to want or to disappoint. But our imagination can also set us free. As Sun Ra said (and I paraphrase), “We’ve tried the possible and it has failed. Now let’s try the impossible.” When we free up our thinking, we get to imagine how our orchards can flourish and thrive, how our trees can dance, and how we can dance with them.

When we focus on the experience of life, we get to notice that we are the miracle. Today I was at Yale University where I taught a group of students how to graft apple trees - only a few bandaids needed, and one quick trip to the local urgent care. (Those knives are sharp. Grafting is surgery, after all.) They all got a chance to experience the sharp knife and the green scion and to imagine climbing someday in their very own trees. 

March 2, 2026

The temperatures took a bit of a tumble last night. It was -12F on the back porch at 6 AM.  I don’t remember  many nights below zero in March. But then again, it’s only two days in. 

The owl at Joseph and Phoebe Taylor’s house in Belgrade

Today I thought more about my encounter with the Barred Owl (Strix varia ) yesterday, Nearly twenty years ago I was informed by a long-time Belgrade, ME resident that I was “the reincarnation of Joseph Taylor”. Taylor was a well-known, Belgrade orchardist (1804-1882) who introduced a number of apple varieties and lived in a hand-made, stone house that featured a stone owl mosaic in one wall. A Barred Owl no less! 

Friends had come for dinner the night before and asked me about how I fell in love with Maine and chose to move here. I recounted the story of my ‘relationship” with Joseph Taylor. Not that I believe in reincarnation, but who knows? I haven’t heard a more plausible explanation for why I had this instant connection with Belgrade at age 11. I could plunge into the many ways that Taylor and I are connected despite living nearly two centuries apart, but suffice it to say that we both love apples and love to work with stone. He had a stone owl in his wall, and we have one in our chimney. 

The day after this conversation with friends, a Barred Owl appeared outside the window. Could it be JT himself, finally coming to check me out?  Although in yesterday’s post I made an effort to translate a bit of what he said, could it be that not a word was even necessary? 

As Mother Goose put it:

The wise old owl sitting in the oak
The more he heard, the less he spoke
The less he spoke, the more he heard
Why can’t we all be like that wise old bird?

With apologies to Mother Goose, I could add:

The wise old owl sitting in the cedar
Quietly by the old bird feeder
Can you imagine my surprise
When he looked into my eyes?

The wise old owl from Belgrade, Maine
Joseph Taylor was his name
He came to visit yesterday
He had a couple things to say.

He spoke to me about the plight
Of focusing on wrong and right
He turned his head without a sound
“It’s not so hard,” he said, “just look around.”

“Listen carefully to the bees
The birds, the bugs, the apple trees
They all have a lot to say
That will guide you on your way.”

The wise old owl understood
That peacefulness is always good
“Be kind,” he whispered, “don’t think too much
Spread love to everyone you touch.”

The wise old owl sat on the branch
By design or maybe chance
He didn’t tell me where to go
He just stopped by to say hello.

March 1, 2026

The temperatures slipped today, and it never made it above freezing. By late afternoon the serious cold was coming back in. 

The highlight for today was the appearance of the Barred Owl (Strix varia) that perched on a cedar branch next to our bird feeder a few feet from the house. It was a few minutes past 5:00 PM. 

Strix varia (with apple tree in the background), March 1, 2026

I’ve trained myself to glance at the bird feeders any time I’m near a window where I can see them. (Sort of like constantly looking at a cell phone to see if so-and-so wrote you that incredibly important text.) But, in this case, I’m checking to see who’s at the feeder. I keep the feeder full, and I glance many times a day.

The farm is located in an opening in the woods. The birds love it. As mentioned a few days ago, the Pileated Woodpeckers often serenade us as we prune trees or pick apples.  While the Pileated doesn’t come to the feeder, a lot of other birds do, including now, the Barred Owl.

Strix varia lives on the periphery. We hear them in the woods often, typically at night. (“Who cooks for you?”) We rarely see them out in the open. When I glanced at the feeder this afternoon, my eyes did a double-take. I stopped what I was doing, tiptoed downstairs, gently pulled up a comfy chair and sat for half an hour. The owl was about ten feet from me. She (or he: it’s not easy to tell them apart) was clearly aware of my presence. She sat on the branch. The wind blew her feathers. She did not move except to swivel her head occasionally one way or the other. There was some serious communication happening between us. It was pretty amazing. Here’s a rough translation of what she had to say:

“Bunk, I don’t need to ask who cooks for you. We all know! But I do have a few things to say. You have created an amazing place here for us owls to live. Thanks for doing this. We love the woods, the stream, the ponds, the clearings, the paths, the gardens and the apple trees. (And the feeder of course though I’m not into sunflower seeds.) We’re doing our part to keep this place vibrant and alive and sorta rodent-free. Please continue to do your part. Keep the farm filled with love. Don’t leave any time soon.”  

February 28, 2026

Todd, Skylar and Claus collecting scionwood from the possible "Martha Stripe" in Orland

By mid-afternoon the temperatures were pushing 40F and snow was melting. Spring is in the air. Only three more weeks. I spent today on the road collecting scionwood from old trees primarily in coastal Hancock County. I was joined by Todd, Skylar and, a retired physician named Claus Hamann who lives in Orland and has seriously bit the apple exploration bug.

We made a gigantic loop around Ellsworth, with an assortment of stops in Brooksville, Orland, Bucksport and Lamoine. In each location we went to specific old trees that we’ve been visiting and studying in recent years, some for a decade or longer. Sometimes we had long chats with the owners, while in other cases, no one was home but we had permission to take scionwood.

Although we suspect we know the identity of some of trees, most remain unidentified, known only by their provisional names and, in some cases, a DNA profile number. That, however, is changing this year. Skylar and Todd have developed a new system of labeling every tree we work with, beginning with the scionwood. Now each selection gets its own handy code that will stick with it for the next hundred years or so. In the past I’ve always preferred the “scribble-a-few-words-on-the-tape” method, but this new code will—we hope—reduce the number of mix-ups that have inevitably happened over the years. We now have hundreds of trees saved in the Maine Heritage Orchard, various nurseries and our auxiliary collections in Palermo, Ellsworth and elsewhere. Minimizing errors is a laudable goal!

As I headed back to the farm, I made stops in Belfast to collect scions from an old tree that might be a second Drap d'or de Bretagne and at one of my all-time favorite seedlings - the rather nasty “Bitter Pew.” It was getting dark as I pulled into the driveway and parked next to the shop. It was still a few degrees above freezing.  

February 25-26, 2026

Yesterday it snowed most of the day for a total of 3”. Today was clear and tickled 32F. I spent some time cutting scionwood, but mostly I delved into the identity of one of our longest-standing, mystery apples -AMHO_151. It seemed as though the time was right to finally figure this one out.

The original tree of AMHO_151, Oct. 2015

Over the course of multiple years of DNA testing in central Maine, 13 old trees (c 120-140 years) have tested as genetically identical. The first of them that is referred to as AMHO_151, is a beautiful old tree growing behind a barn on the West Road in the central Maine town of Belgrade that I first visited in September 2011. Even before genetic testing, I believed that I kept finding the same cultivar over and over again. At first the trees were all from the Belgrade Lakes region, but DNA testing confirmed that the geographical parameter of this cultivar included a large swath of the central part of the state.  As far as I know, it has not been found outside of Maine.

I’ve had a number of suspicions about this apple since I first saw it in 2011. Originally I thought the apple might be one called Zachary that was introduced by Joseph Taylor. Taylor (1804-1882) was a Belgrade orchardist who was active in the Maine Pomological Society. I also considered that it might be another Taylor introduction called Childs, Childs being a common last-name in the Belgrade region. And I couldn’t rule out the possibility that the apple might be the Delaware County, PA apple, Pennock, aka Pennoch, Red Winter Pennock etc. as suggested by a number of others.

My latest thinking is that the apple may be Arctic, a historic cultivar that most likely originated in either New York or Vermont about the middle of the 19th century. Arctic is distinct from “Autumn Arctic” and is not currently in any DNA tested database, as far as I know. 

Since Joseph Taylor died in 1882 and his introductions were never broadly popular, any Taylor introductions, still surviving, are likely to be ancient trees. This makes it less likely that AMHO_151 would be one of his. There are two Belgrade trees that could be his introductions - “Dots” (AMHO_011 & AMHO_052) and Janetha’s Yellow (aka Stone Wall/E Sabins, MHO 2014 H3) (AMHO_300 & AMHO_487). These ancient trees are still growing at what was Joseph Taylor’s parents’ farm—later known as the Sabins Farm—about 2 miles from Joseph Taylor’s own home. The Sabins Farm is currently owned by Janetha Benson. AMHO_052 was submitted from the state of New Hampshire by Jared Kane. (AMHO_300 and AMHO_487 are the same tree.) Dots and Janetha Yellow each DNA profiled as unique. Janetha Yellow has Reinette Franche as a likely grandparent and Drap d’Or de Bretagne as a close relative.

How about Pennock? There is a possibility that AMHO_151 is Pennock. Phenotypically, Pennock does closely resemble AMHO_151. References to Pennock are scarce, however, and one would hope that an apple that appears as frequently as this one would have found more representation in the literature. Bradford (1911) writes of Pennock, “…grown in the state probably since 1835. It was fairly well known around Bangor in 1850 and has been grown to a limited extent since that time.” Although these AMHO_151 trees are old, they are not ancient. It would be safe to say that any Pennock trees would likely have to be older than the trees we’ve found.

Most recently it was revealed that six trees (Holli Trees #1-6) from one farm in the town of Embden, about 40 miles due north of Belgrade all tested as identical to AMHO_151. I contacted Holli Cederholm immediately. Holli works for MOFGA and used to work for Fedco. I was hoping for a good clue or lead. She wrote to me: “ A few of our neighbors have been around for decades and know the apple as a winter keeper. One neighbor says he has one of the same variety, he suspects, at his camp down the road. Another, who is 84, says the previous farm owner called the apples "Arctic Baldwin." This was exactly what I had hoped for. There are multiple references to Arctic being grown in central Maine at the proper time and being compared to Baldwin. It was also known as “Hardy Baldwin.” AMHO 151 is a “Baldwin type.” It is a dark red, long keeper—like Baldwin. 

Why had I not considered Arctic before? I had been introduced to Arctic twice in the past. The first tree was at Earland Goodhue’s farm in Sidney, near Belgrade, in about 1997.  Earland’s Arctic (one large branch) was ID’ed by the famous, NH professor and breeder, Elwin Meader who was an acquaintance of Earland’s. Earland had collected the scionwood from an old tree in Sidney, not knowing what it was. He was skeptical and somewhat dismissive of the ID which made me skeptical as well. Although I grafted a number of Earland’s cultivars, I never grafted his Arctic. In light of the fact that we’ve found multiple trees of the possible Arctic in the Belgrade area, maybe his was, in fact, correct. We will probably never know. Earland died over ten years ago, and his orchard has been mostly abandoned. I might still be able to find the Arctic branch though it’s doubtful. I do not have photos of that apple.

In the late summer of 2013 I was contacted by Nancy Homes of Jefferson who told me about an Arctic tree she had been introduced to in Jefferson. I visited that tree in September 2013. I returned to the orchard in March 2014 and collected scionwood from which we grafted five trees that spring. Presumably one of those was the tree planted at MHO in the spring of 2016. That was tested once (AMHO_085) and came back as Black Twig. That test appears to have been contaminated or mixed up. It should be tested again. I never phenotyped the Jefferson Arctic though I do have multiple photos of the apple. It is similar to AMHO_151.

Pennock and Arctic phenotypes on paper are nearly identical. I’ve assembled an excel spreadsheet of the characteristics using Bussey’s descriptions of Pennock and Arctic and comparing them to the descriptions I’ve done of AMHO_151 et al. That comparison shows very little difference in the three.

It may be possible to get some clues by looking at the parentage of these apples. Knowing parentage can reveal what an apple can—or can not—be. Bussey writes that Arctic originated in about 1862. Pennock was first recorded in 1810. If at least one of the parents of AMHO_151, originated after 1810 but before about 1840 that would eliminate Pennock from contention. The genetic testing revealed that AMHO_151 is a triploid and that one parent is (or may be?) Newtown Spitzenburg. Newtown Spitzenburg was first recorded in 1817 but almost certainly predates 1817 by a number of years, possibly a half century or more. This would mean that Newtown Spitzenburg could be a parent of either Pennock or Arctic.  Pennock is likely from PA, and Arctic is likely from New York or Vermont. The probable dates and locations of origin for both fit plausibly with Newtown Spitzenburg as a possible parent.

Can I gain some clues from tree locations? There are multiple references to Arctic being planted in the last ten years of the 19th c. in Somerset and Piscataquis Counties, not far from the location of all but one of the 13 trees we’ve found. As far as I know, no such references have been found for Pennock. This is strong, but not conclusive evidence. 

What about the 84 year old neighbor? Having a neighbor indicate that the apple was known locally as “Arctic Baldwin” is huge. This is also strong evidence that we may have a positive ID.  

Case solved? Although I think we have found the Arctic apple, there are a few steps moving forward that could close the case. A complete test of AMHO_151 should be done with the hope of confirming the one parent and determining the second. We should retest the possible Arctic from Jefferson (AMHO_085). I should return to Earland Goodhue’s farm in Sidney in the fall to see if I can locate the branch that may have Arctic. Lots to do. The mystery continues.

February 23, 2026

The massive storm that walloped the East Coast mostly skipped central Maine. (Just heard from cousins that they got 32” in Rhode Island.) We did get the impressive winds and about ten hours of snow, though there wasn’t that much accumulation, less than a foot. The vehicles, solar panels and bird feeder hardly have a flake on them. Nothing like Brother Wind to keep things dusted off.

Pulling scionwood orders at SCF, February 23, 2026

Cammy and I spent the day indoors assembling the scionwood orders received to date. We lay out the bundles of scion sticks (twigs) down the dining room table and then pull each order. One of this, two of that. At one point I braved the storm to venture out into the fray to collect a few cultivars we were missing. That was wild. It’s interesting to see what unusual varieties people want to grow. The best seller so far this season? Old Foxwhelp, the original true Foxwhelp cider apple I imported a few years ago from western England. Most of the Foxwhelps out there are not true to type. BEWARE of impostors.

All the while the tiny juncos and chickadees were negotiating the gale-force winds as they flitted back and forth selecting sunflower seeds from the feeder. How do they do it?

There’s still time if you want scionwood. We’ll be pruning trees and cutting scions until about the first of Spring. And don’t forget to join us at MOFGA’s Scionwood Exchange. That delightful event will be on Sunday March 29th. “Last Sunday in March.” 

February 22, 2026

Although temperatures were down around zero at dawn, it was up above freezing by late morning. Cammy and I spent all day collecting scionwood to send out to enthusiasts around the country. We don’t sell a lot of scionwood, but we do get two or three dozen orders a year for our weirder experimental cultivars. Part of our mission is to disseminate apples that might never be out there otherwise. It’s gratifying work that connects us with the extreme-apple-geeks of America. We’re somewhat limited in our range of influence by plant import/export laws—no sending plant material overseas—but that’s probably a good thing. At least the government makes a vague attempt to limit the flow of undesirable bugs and disease. Maybe it’s time to outlaw shipping pallets. That would be popular!

Collecting scionwood at Finley Lane, February 22, 2026 

We spent the day going up and down the rows of trees, cutting selected twigs as we went along, labeling them with masking tape and sharpies and loading them into an ash pack-basket. It was warm enough by noon that we wished we had fewer layers on, but by mid-afternoon we were again glad we had them. We finally retired as it was beginning to get dark. By then we’d cut several hundred sticks. It’s still light until 5:30 now. Spring is just around the corner.    

February 20, 2026

This afternoon I met with The Working Group, the rag-tag assortment of apple historians who have taken on the responsibility (opportunity?) of saving North America’s pomological heritage. It’s us or no one. Shouldn’t it be up to the government, at least, shouldn’t they be helping to fund this amazing effort? Guess again. We meet twice a month on “zoom” and attempt to develop strategies for saving the last remaining trees of hundreds of America’s rarest apples, “pro bono.” Incredibly enough, we’re doing it. Somehow we’re scraping together a little here and a little there, and the historic varieties are getting saved. Hallelujah!

The news at today’s meeting included new DNA genetic profile results for over a hundred recent submissions. There were some really interesting results that included trees here in Maine. Leaves submitted from half a dozen trees located on an old farm all came back matching one of my favorite unidentified cultivars, an apple that I’ve found in multiple locations in the Belgrade Lakes area. I’ve been calling the apple “Childs” or “Zachary” (two local apple names), though it is likely not either. It may be a somewhat more common cultivar called Pennock. This will give me new inspiration to get out my notes and books to see if I have any new thoughts as to what this interesting apple could be. It’s dark red, prominently dotted, delicious and keeps in the root cellar all winter. It was definitely popular in central Maine 150 years ago.

February 19, 2026

My routine continues as the weather is warming up. Perhaps we’ve seen the last of temperatures much below zero F. I looked at apples for a few hours this morning, then headed out to the orchard. In another week or so, I’ll quit doing firewood and focus on pruning the apple trees. 

.“Pileated” monument, Wilmington MA

The highlight today was being serenaded by a Pileated Woodpecker much of the afternoon. (I love them almost as much as I love Macaws.) I will never forget the moment I saw my first Pileated on a bluff above Great Pond in Belgrade. I was with “Aunt Meb” who was actually not my aunt but the mother of my buddy, John Shaw. She was an avid birder, and she knew how much I wanted to see a Pileated Woodpecker. It was just the two of us out for a bird walk one summer afternoon, and there it was, high up in a pine tree. What a fantastic moment! I didn’t see the Pileated today. I was too busy with my own work. But I could hear her (or him) chipping out chunks of hemlock or pine not far away. We were both into our own woodworking projects. I love sharing the woods. 

The famous apple, Baldwin, was first known as “Woodpecker” because the woodpeckers love to dig into the tree. Maybe Baldwin should have been named, Pileated? 

February 18, 2026

I’ve been in a routine lately of doing apple ID’s in the morning and cutting firewood along the orchard edge in the afternoon. It’s a good routine. Doing all day inside is too much. All day outside is quite wonderful except that cutting firewood is hard on the back after three or four hours. So I split the day and come in as it’s getting dark. Also both tasks are immense. I’m making a dent, but still have a long way to go. This way I inch along in both departments. So many apples to look at! So much firewood to gather for next winter!

In the apple world I’m deep into Hancock County, the gateway to Downeast Maine. Today’s star apple came in a bag labeled, “Worthen Goose Cove apple, Goose Cove, Trenton, collected 11/14/25.” Although I’ve never seen the tree, apparently it’s ancient and laying down, as they often do when they get very old. The apples are medium-large in size, roundish-oblate, greasy skinned, muted yellow, and partly to largely covered with muted, red blush and distinctive, red stripes. (I could go on.) We’ve been looking for an obscure apple in the area called Martha Stripe. Have we found it?

February 17, 2026

MOFGA’s executive director, Sarah Alexander, and Todd Little Siebold gathered in my living room today to discuss the status of and plans for the Maine Heritage Orchard. Unfortunately the shifted priorities of the current US president have meant that MOFGA has taken a huge financial hit and, therefore, so has the Maine Heritage Orchard. Already we’ve lost one of our two orchard staff members to budget cuts, But, fret not, MOFGA’s not going to close the orchard any time soon.  The priceless, historic apples of Maine will not be lost. MOFGA does have the capacity to keep the trees alive for now. Todd and I have committed to continuing all the database and research work “Pro Bono” since we keep finding interesting, old trees every fall. If you have a few bucks burning a hole in your picking bucket, feel free to send them to MOFGA. They can use it now, more than ever.

Meanwhile, while I’m on the subject of Sarah, what’s happening with my search for the Sarah apple? In October when I was giving a talk in Farmington, I met two people who think they’ve found an ancient Sarah apple tree not far from where it originated in Wilton. They called me last week, and it looks as though I’ll be able to go visit them and collect scionwood sometime in the next few days. I’ll have it DNA profiled and grow it out here at the farm.  This is great news. 

February 16, 2026

+10F at dawn. The nighttime temperatures are creeping up. Today was another beautiful day on the farm. I resisted the temptation to spend the entire day outdoors and opted instead to sit and stare at apples until afternoon.

Today we celebrate the birthdays of two of our most beloved presidents: George Washington (February 22, 1732) and Abraham Lincoln (February 12, 1809). Within a half hour drive of the farm we have the towns of Lincolnville and Washington. Lincolnville was named in 1802, seven years before “Honest Abe” was born, but Washington got its name in 1825, 26 years after the death of the man who was purported to say, “I can not tell a lie.”

A battered President found at a cocktail party, 2011

Since it’s President’s day, I will continue to glance at the President apple. Bussey lists four potentially distinct cultivars with that name. Actually he lists five, one being the apple Todd Little Siebold found after eavesdropping at a Hancock County cocktail party in 2011. If that one is a true President, it is likely the Essex County, MA President or the Salem, NH President. Of course those two might be one and the same. There’s also a President originating in Michigan and another in Tennessee. It’s unlikely those ever made it to Maine.

Although the historical record does indicate that a “President” apple was grown in Hancock County, as I’ve noted so many times in these orchard reports, the written descriptions of old cultivars are often sketchy at best. To accurately identify many of these requires resorting to the circumstantial evidence found in old books and newspapers, letters, maps and journals and, of course, at cocktail parties. 

This past fall, Todd and I collected fruit from another potential candidate for President, one we provisionally call, Sunnyside Yellow Netted. It is big and bright and shiny and looks oh so presidential. The leaves are in the lab now as I write, and we await any obscure clues that may emerge from the DNA results.

The only President I ever saw in person was Jimmy Carter on his inauguration day. That would have been January 20, 1977. It was a beautiful, clear, cold day in DC. I was standing on the cement base of a streetlight pole so that I could see over the crowd that lined Pennsylvania Avenue. I got to watch the President climb out of the car and walk down the street to the cheers of everyone. Amazing.

February 14, 2026

—6F at dawn. Today we celebrate love in the orchard. Love and Apples. The perfect combination!

Cammy has a cloth bag hanging on a chair next to her desk, printed with the quote “Comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love.” It’s from The Bible’s Song of Solomon. There are a number of translations of the original Hebrew, as you might imagine. Others are less dismissive of Love. The apple becomes regenerative rather than a replacement for unhappiness. For example, “refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love.” Or, “refresh me with apples, for I am sick with love.” Or, even more blunt, “refresh me with apples, for I am lovesick.”

Earlier in the Song of Solomon, are the lines, 

“Like an apple tree among the trees of the woods,
So is my beloved among the sons.
I sat down in his shade with great delight,
And his fruit was sweet to my taste.”

These lines remind me of my favorite apple song.“The Burial Waltz" by the Fugs, recorded in 1968. 

“Do not surround me with wreathes of flowers
Nor place upon my body the signs of a fetish
Nor crescent, cross, phallus or sun
But bury me in an apple orchard
That I may touch your lips again.
Look at me when you glance
At the spring apple flower
Speak of me into a breeze
Blowing over your fingers
Taste of me when your lips taste the froth
Foaming out of the apple meat.”

Our relationship with the apple trees could be described as bizarre. They are definitely strange creatures, so different from us. Or, maybe we’re the strange creatures, not them. But when we create relationships based on acceptance, trust and, yes, love, I think we’re headed in the right direction, no matter how bizarre. Love and apples. Happy Valentine’s Day.