Today in the orchard
As predicted, the snow came, and the temperature did not rise. At least not enough to turn the precipitation into rain. There was some thought that it would hold off until mid-morning, but that didn’t happen. It was snowing by 8:00 AM.
I spent much of the day identifying apples, including a Stark tree from Falmouth, ME and a Baldwin tree from Martha’s Vineyard, MA. Stark (not to be confused with Starkey or Stark Bros.) does vaguely resemble Baldwin. In fact, some growers called them “Baldwin” in the same way that many green apples were called “Greening” as though all the various green apples were the same cultivar (which they are not!) With Stark, this troubling habit of calling them Baldwin caused confusion a hundred years ago. It also caused confusion as my brain was sorting out varieties many years ago. When you are told that multiple distinct cultivars are all the same, it doesn’t help your brain any as you try to figure out what’s what. Baldwin and Stark are not the same.
Stark originated in Ohio in the mid-nineteenth century and became quite popular in Maine a short time later. It was grown commercially—like Baldwin—but it’s hardier, perhaps a bit easier to grow, and maybe the trees were more accessible (cheaper). Anyway, it was grown fairly commonly in Maine before the rise of McIntosh.
How to tell them apart: in shape Stark is more round-conic, and Baldwin is chubbier. Stark’s skin is smoother. Stark’s “red” is a dull brown mixed with a bit of green while Baldwin is brick red. Stark’s basin is not nearly as furrowed as Baldwin. Baldwin’s furrows can be quite pronounced (though not like Red Delicious.)
The Baldwin apples were sent from Martha’s Vineyard. The owner included a photo noting the woodpecker holes in her mystery tree. How perfect! One of the early names of New England’s most important apple ever was “Woodpecker”. Woody himself was writing his name right there on the trunk of the tree. If we could only read “Woodpecker.”
Meanwhile the snow continued to blanket the Earth, and before I knew it ,it was night and time to abandon the ID table and go put the chickens away. The snow was up over my low-boots. Time to get out the high-boots.