December 5, 2025

Today in the orchard

This morning was the coldest December 5th in a very long time. It was —14F on the big porch at 6 AM.  I think we could have gone skating today somewhere nearby. But we didn’t try. Mr. and Ms. Cardinal, who have taken up permanent residence status on the farm for the past few winters, were seen deliberating on their decision as we ate breakfast with the sun shining in our eyes and the woodstove radiating whatever it could muster from behind. “Why did we do this?” she was heard chirping to the Dad. I didn’t actually hear his reply. It sounded like he mumbled something in the order of, “hey, these black oil sunflower seeds are pretty good.” 

Our visiting friends headed off for lands south of here. Cammy and I descended into the basement where we sorted apples for the next several hours until well after dark. (Dark is about 3:30.) We’ll sell the best of them over the course of the next few weeks. Some will go into one last cider pressing if the weather cooperates. Many will be examined, photographed, tasted, cooked with and some will be “phenotypically” described for future generations. And then there are the bushels of bags of assorted ID’s. So much to do.

By evening the root cellar was looking more orderly than it had in weeks. It was time to re-ascend into the warmth. Outside, that big fat moon was shining like a spoon. It will be warmer tonight. Zero, they say.

December 3, 2025

Today in the orchard

I never know what will turn up when I open a package this time of year. I assume it’s going to be a bunch of apples and then, it’s not. I opened one box yesterday and found two jars of honey sent from a former member of our apple CSA. A thank you gift for all the apples over the years. Thank you! 

Another I opened yesterday was a crocheted potholder with a Black Oxford apple in the center. Wow!  This was from Paula Gray who I’d met in Massachusetts earlier this fall and whose relative was Nathaniel Haskell, the one credited with having found the first Black Oxford tree 240 years ago in Paris, ME. Meeting Paula was a highlight of my trip to the New England Botanic Garden at Tower Hill in Boylston. She came up to me and introduced herself. We agreed on a trade: she’d send me family information on Nathaniel Haskell, and I’d send her a box of Black Oxfords. She’d never tried one.

According to Paula, Nathaniel was Capt. Nathaniel Haskell, born in Hampton Falls, NH in 1742. He married Deborah Bailey of Falmouth, ME. At age thirty-three Nathaniel joined the “31st regiment of Foot,” in Cumberland County, ME. He died in New Gloucester, not far from Falmouth, in 1794. 

Nathaniel’s daughter, Dorothy, born 1768 in New Gloucester, married Edmund Knight, and they lived in Poland, Otisfield and Paris, Maine. Dorothy died in 1848. According to Paula, “I don’t know if Nathaniel ever lived for a time in Paris, ME, but his daughter Dorothy (my grandmother) and his daughter Jemma lived there for decades.”

Sometime around 1790 the seedling that became known as Black Oxford was supposedly found by Nathaniel on the Valentine farm in Paris. Using 1790 as the date, that would have made Dorothy twenty-two years old and, by that time she could have married Edmund Knight and been living in Paris. Captain Nathaniel Haskell would have been forty-eight. Was he visiting his daughter? Was he living for a time with her and her young family?

Paula’s note inspired me to do more research. Evidently Nathaniel and Deborah had 12 children, one of whom was also named Nathaniel who was born in 1764 and would have been twenty-six in 1790 when the seedling was discovered. The son, Nathaniel married Sarah Stevens, and they had a son, also named Nathaniel, who was born in Paris in 1789. Perhaps Paula’s suspicion is correct - Captain Nathaniel Haskell never lived in Paris. It seems more likely that the Nathaniel Haskell of Black-Oxford-fame was his son Nathaniel who was living in Paris in 1789.

I went to the basement and selected a dozen Black Oxford apples and packed them up to send to Paula. I’ll put them in the mail tomorrow.

December 2, 2025

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.

December 1, 2025

Today in the orchard

It was windy, cold and partly cloudy, sprinkled with the occasional moment of warm sunshine. All the farm ponds are now iced-over though no one is looking for their skates just yet. I haven’t checked out the big ponds so I don’t know about them. The first decent storm of the season is predicted for tomorrow, to be followed by abnormally cold air. 

Cammy wrapped the last of the trees around the farm with screen. I went up to the neighbor’s and put on sixty treeguards there. We do an on-going work-trade with them. We maintain their orchard, and in return I’ve gotten to plant and grow out a bunch of back-ups of our favorite rare, historic-Maine cultivars. We also get a load of firewood to supplement what we cut ourselves. It’s a beautiful spot that was long ago a small commercial orchard of a hundred trees or so. About twenty of the original trees—mostly Ben Davis and Stark—remain.

As it was getting dark, we closed down the cooler for the season and moved all the remaining apples down to the basement. In the next few days we’ll go through the boxes, sort them out, pitch the rotten ones, set aside enough to do another cider pressing and store the rest in the root cellar. Then I’ll seriously plunge into the ID’s. That should take the entire winter.  

November 28, 2025

Today in the orchard

Today I went for a long, brisk, windy walk along the choppy waters of East River between Manhattan and Brooklyn with Benford Lepley, an apple-forager, grower and cidermaker from Long Island. We’d met a few times over the years, and it seemed as though it was about time to actually spend a couple hours together. Benford—or Ben—makes “Floral Terranes Cider” with Erik Longabardi, primarily from foraged wild apples in the New York city area. He’s grafted a collection of his favorite discoveries and planted an orchard out in eastern Long Island. I was pleased to hear that he’s already grafted “Screen Shot,” one of our own nastiest favorites. We’ll trade scionwood this winter and trial some of his up north at Finley Lane. 

He brought us a bottle of his “Trees are Filters” cider. The name got me instantly inspired. The word “filter” definitely got a bad rep (and a bad rap) during the cigarette days. The “filter” was supposed to eliminate the unhealthy stuff from the tobacco that nearly everyone smoked. If you were health conscious (or a wimp), you’d smoke filtered cigarettes. How well did that work? But on the farm, filter is the good word. Even essential. We filter the oil that lubricates the tractor that powers the sprayer that filters the sprays that we spray on the apple trees that filter our air and filter our water and filter the nutrients that rise through the xylem’s filter to feed the flowers that produce the apples that we grind and press and filter through a special cloth into a screened funnel (another filter) and into the barrel. No filters, no cider.  

November 26, 2025

Today in the orchard

Well, the Redfield, Blue Pearmain and Grandfather pie was a success. At least I was quite happy with it. The texture was nearly perfect, and  the flavor was good too. It's worth mentioning that the granddaughters assisted me with the prep work. As they were rolling out the crust, hey tasted the three apples raw and were entirely unimpressed. It's amazing what an hour in the oven can do for the flavor of the right apples.

The crust did settle a bit. Not weirdly so but it did have me concerned. I probably could have used one or two more apples. (I used 10 apples: four Redfield, and 3 each of the other two.)  The flavor of the crust was nondescript. That’s what I like. No distractions. I used 1/3 c sugar and barely 1/8 tsp of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Just enough to give it a hint. I never peel the apples. 

Would I recommend that combo again? I went back for seconds.

Oh yes, the rest of the meal was also a big success as was the company. On top of that, everyone liked our cider as well. Apples win again!    

November 25, 2025

Today in the orchard

I generally prefer making single-variety pies because I love to see what a particular apple can do. But now it’s Thanksgiving, and I want to go all out with a blend. Yesterday I mentioned Northern Spy, Rhode Island Greening and Gravenstein—all excellent choices. But I prefer to be more adventurous. So I will use Redfield, Blue Pearmain and Grandfather.

Redfield is a modern (1938) apple and one of my favorite apples ever. It knows how to make sauce, and it definitely knows how to shine in a pie. The slices hold their shape, the texture is tender yet firm, and it has flavor. The tree itself bears prolifically, annually and is relatively easy to grow. And the flesh is red. Who could ask for more?

Blue Pearmain is exceedingly old (c 1725), originated somewhere in Suffolk County—Boston, is of unknown origin and parentage but has the famous ancestor, Reinette Franche as a grandparent. On the beauty-scale it’s up near the top - magnificent. It’s also one of the parents of Black Oxford and a favorite unidentified apple we can “Guptill Lavender.” It is a bakes well whole, so today I’ll give it the ultimate test.

The third (a risk) is a local apple, “Grandfather,” which may be a seedling but which is quite old nevertheless. We grafted ours from an old tree a few miles from our farm. I chose it in part because it is acidic. The pie apple requires acidity. The low-acid apples do not cook well into a pie. I don’t even consider them. Grandfather is also beautiful. True, beauty doth not an pie apple make, but it’s also mostly yellow. Neither Redfield nor Blue Pearmain has a dot of yellow on them, and it seemed like I needed at least some yellow to balance the red. Balance is good for a pie. 

What apples should you use? Better to lean on the acidity side. You can tell—just take a bite of the apple fresh. Love that simple crust. Go easy on the spices and sugar. Use lots of butter. And if all else fails, there’s always ice cream or whipped cream. Or both!  Happy Thanksgiving.      

November 24, 2025

Today in the orchard

I recently visited the Union Square Farmers Market in Manhattan in search of commercially available pie apples. The square was hopping, and there was a lot of produce being sold. There’s not much else more fun than roaming around The Big Apple If you can't be at home!

Between the various fruit vendors I was able to photograph an impressive 36 apple cultivars for sale. Surely there must be some decent pie apples in the lot. Well, maybe. Sadly, nearly all of them were those modern, crisp, dessert apples in their various incarnations.  Tucked between the Crispy Crisps, I found a cardboard placard with a recommended “baking” list. I wonder if whoever invented the line-up ever baked a pie. 

• HoneyCrisp

• Pink Lady

• Braeburn

• Granny Smith

• Macoun

• Jonagold  

But there were a few somewhat common cultivars that might be in contention. You may be able to find these at a farm stand or store near you. These included Winesap, Cortland and Idared.  (Although I confess that I’ve never used any of them so, who am I to say?) 

Winesap is very old and of unknown ancestry, originating well before the Revolution somewhere down near Valley Forge. I recall someone once telling me it was a good pie apple. Cortland is from the early twentieth century. Its parents are Ben Davis and McIntosh. Maine grocery stores will try to convince you it’s good for pies. So be it. Idared is from the mid-twentieth century and is a Jonathan x Wagener cross. Whether it's good in the oven is a guess. If you can find any of these three, I’d say try one, or even better, try a mix of all three. 

November 23, 2025

Today in the orchard

But what about the PIE apples? There are sixteen thousand (give or take) cultivars listed in Dan Bussey’s Illustrated History of Apples in the United States and Canada, not to mention the tens of millions of apple seedlings out there in the US landscape - almost as many as there are stars in the sky or insects on the planet. Practically an infinite array of flavors and textures—not to mention colors and sizes and shapes. So how come it’s so hard to find a good pie apple!

First and foremost, the apple is beholden to The Crust. The Crust—even the simple crust—has got to be edible. All crusts cook in a set amount of time—mine takes 15 minutes at 375F and another 45 minutes at 350F. That’s easy. The challenge becomes the apples: they need to cook to the perfect flavor and texture in the same amount of time. A few minutes out of sync one way or the other and the pie will be a failure. No matter how good the crust, no matter how good the spices, no matter how much sugar and butter, if the apples are poorly cooked, the pie will be a flop. 

So you have to find apples that will cook to the perfect texture in 60 minutes, and not many do. Some will be sauce, some will be leathery, some will be like rubber. Others will be tasteless and vapid, whatever that is. But fortunately a few will be perfectly tender after 60 minutes yet hold their shape. That’s requirement number one. Requirement number two is…flavor. "They got to have flavor." And, they have to be in season. That’s all tricky.

Before I tell you what I’ll be using on Thursday, here are four suggested cultivars you might be able to find with a bit of resourcefulness in some commercial orchards, farmstands and even grocery stores. 

• Gravenstein (aka Gravensteiner): This is one of the most historically important apples in the world. It is so old that its origins are totally unknown. Guesses have been made but are all probably incorrect. It is a true pie apple and has often been prclaimed to be the best of them all. It’s a bit late in the fall to find them, but they might still be around. Unlike most cultivars, they have been grown on both coasts for generations. If you can find it, your pie will be a homerun.

• Northern Spy: This classic New York apple first appeared in the mid-nineteenth century and became wildly popular throughout the eastern US. It ripens late but should be OK now. It makes an outstanding pie and, if you can find it, I don’t think you’ll be unhappy.

• Rhode Island Greening: This is the original Greening, dating from the early days of what eventually became Rhode Island. It is unrelated to all other “Greening” apples. RIG is a premier cooking apple and should be perfectly ripe today. Highly recommended.

• Bramley: Though I’ve never used Bramley, it is beloved in its native UK. It’s worth a try.   

November 22, 2025

Today in the orchard

With Thanksgiving only five days away, everyone in the world must be thinking about that most quintessential of American foods - the pinnacle of culinary creativity, the one food item that combines all five major food groups (dough, spices, butter, sugar and Malus domestica). What else? The apple pie!

There are many recipes for pie crusts. Some are incredibly flakey and delicious, but I fear that they can wind up being a distraction. I’m a fan of the KISS pie crust (Keep it simple, stupid.) The simpler the crust, the more you can taste the number one ingredient: the apple. So I use about 1 1/2 c flour, a stick of butter and a few tablespoons of water. Make a ball of dough, and refrigerate for 2-3 hours. Then roll it out thin, and you’re done. If your pie pan is bigger, use 2 c flour and a bit more butter. “It’s better with butter.” 

And what about the spices and sugar? I also espouse to the KISS plan on both. The best plan is to use none. Not that I don’t love them, especially nutmeg—one of the most wonderful smells in the world. But “less is more” nonetheless. I do use cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves, but in minuscule amounts, about 1/8 tsp of each. It’s sort of the homeopathic version of pie spices, or as we say these days, micro-dosing. With the sugar, again micro-dose. If the recipe says a cup, cut it in thirds or quarters.  

But what about the apples?  Help is on the way... tomorrow.

November 21, 2025

Today in the orchard

The orchard is mostly put away for the winter now. All the apples that are going to get picked are done with one exception. We haven’t picked the Wickson yet. Our plan is to pick them frozen and then press them. They tend to be very high in sugar and allowing them to freeze on the tree drives the brix even higher. Wickson can produce one of the most delicious single-variety ciders. (The small fruit are also very good eaten fresh.) But they ripen very late and picking them early is not recommended. One year we pressed 50 gallons of Wickson juice too early, and the cider was a disappointment. 

Wickson was introduced by the innovative California breeder, Albert Etter in the mid-twentieth century. Although Etter left breeding records which are often quoted, DNA profiling has produced nothing conclusive. At this point, although Reinette Franche is likely in its ancestry, neither parent nor any of the four grandparents are known. Still Wickson is a great apple and we better pick it soon!  

November 20, 2025

Today in the orchard

This morning the temperature on the back porch was 15F. It’s the second night in the past couple of weeks that we’ve had it that chilly. That’s cold for mid-November. The farm ponds are now frozen - not enough to skate, but impressive nonetheless. This cold weather may be caused by a weakening solar vortex and a major sudden stratospheric warming. The weather reporters seem to agree that this polar event—whatever it is—is responsible for the colder temperatures. Not being a meteorologist, I can only report what I observe. It really has been colder this month than I remember it being for some years. It could be the coldest winter since 1968 when the snow was so deep you couldn’t park by the side of many central Maine roads and I watched with some amazement as kids jumped out of third story windows into the snow banks at Colby College. (Though not me.) The temperature in the root cellar is now down to about 40F which is great. I’ll let it continue to drop another 5—7 degrees before I close it up.

Turns out we’re not quite done with tree guards. As I work around the farm, I keep running into another tree here or there that could use some protection. So I’ll continue to wrap window screening around trees to deter the voles.

November 19, 2025

Today in the orchard

We have finally completed putting on the tree guards. The ones we save for last are the larger trees that require window screening or hardware cloth (aka rat wire) because the spiral tree guards are too small in diameter to expand around the trunks.  We wrap the trunk with screening and then tie it tight with baling twine. The perennial million-dollar-question is, “when is a tree large enough to no longer require a tree guard?” When the bark becomes rough and plated, it’s likely tough enough to withstand the attack of the voles. But, “an ounce of prevention…” as they say. We already found one young tree with fresh chewing, and it’s only November. Agrh! It’s also worth noting that the tree guard must be nestled down into the earth at least a little bit. Last year one of the guards did not quite reach the ground and the voles found it. How do they do that?

November 18, 2025

Today in the orchard

For the second night in a row the pond in front of the house has partly frozen over. The nights have been consistently well below 32F. This fall has been cold. It’s also been windy, which has not been easy on the oldest apple trees, including the old Opalescent tree up on Turner Ridge about two miles from the farm. That tree has been producing delicious, beautiful, red, mid-fall fruit since long before cars, electricity and radio—and maybe even before trains—came to Palermo. 

On a recent windy day about 3/4 of the top broke off the ancient tree and, although not entirely detached, it does not have enough connection to the trunk to remain viable. So this afternoon I took a ladder and a chainsaw up to the ball field where the ancient tree resides and pruned off the broken top. It’s on town land. No one gave me permission but anyone who notices will be happy not to have to deal with it. They would likely just cut it to the ground. I wouldn’t.

My plan was to cut out anything that was burnable in our wood stove, one 16” piece at a time. I didn’t want to make any large gallant cuts that might tear off a big chunk of the remaining live bark or, even worse, cause the entire tree to break apart. So I picked away at it, and in a couple of hours I had it cleaned up. It looks pretty bare. Hopefully there’s enough live growth on it to keep it going for several more presidents. I’ll save some scionwood from what I cut and graft a bunch of trees, at least one of which will go in our orchard. Don’t want to lose this one.   

November 16-17, 2025

Today in the orchard

More rain and snow and sleet and hail and gray and dark and gloomy. It’s November! I ventured out into the orchard to pick our first crop of “Burnham Sweet,” grafted from an ancient tree introduced to us a few years ago by Peter del Tredici. Peter had been taking care of the tree for several decades out in Cornwall ,CT.

My provisional name for the apple was “Cornwall del Tredici,” but I now believe I've found Burnham Sweet, an apple introduced by a locally famous Cornwall resident and Revolutionary War officer, Oliver Burnham (1760-1846). The Illustrated History of Apples in the United States and Canada .(Bussey, vol I p 312 and 438) lists both Barnham (aka Barnham Sweet) and Burnham (aka Burnham Sweet) as originating in Cornwall and first recorded within a few years of one another (1869 and 1872.) Bussey’s descriptions of the two cultivars  are nearly identical. All that separates them is one vowel and that from a time when most documentation was in handwriting, not print. When does an “a” become a “u” or vice versa?  

We did a DNA profile (AMHO 311) and found no match in the Reference Panel. The DNA results did show that the famous ancestor of many American apples, Reinette Franche, is likely a grandparent or a more distant relative. The fruit is yellow and it definitely ripens late.

November 15, 2025

Today in the orchard

Todd Little-Siebold and I gave a presentation at the New England Botanic Garden at Tower Hill this afternoon. Our focus was historic apple identification and how the use of DNA has helped to inform our understanding of apple history in New England. It was part of a well-attended, all-day seminar on apples. 

The day was topped off in fantastic style when one of the attendees came up to me and identified herself as a descendent of Nathaniel Haskell, the fellow who is thought to have found the original Black Oxford. Needless to say, she now has my full attention and contact information. She will be talking with relatives, and I hope to learn everything I can about the Haskell family and the past 240 years or so. I told her I’d send her some Black Oxfords this fall.

November 14, 2025

Today in the orchard

Cammy continued to prepare the nursery and the orchards for winter. This includes more weeding in the nursery and wrapping more treeguards onto the young trees. It’s a long, arduous task but always worth the effort. Always means Always. That’s Always with a capital A or you might say uppercase or in the olden days, “majuscule.” In any event, do it!  I’ve heard numerous stories of trees as old as ten years being lost to happy voles scampering down the network of I-95’s under the snow.  

November 13, 2025

Today in the orchard

Today I spent several hours reviewing the DNA results for the historic apple collection at the New England Botanic Gardens at Tower Hill. Tower Hill stewards what became one of the most important “heirloom” collections in North America since being assembled by Stearns Lothrop Davenport and his apple friends in the mid-twentieth century near Worcester, MA. It has had its challenges including phenotypic errors, pests, disease and aging out, but it persists and has been a source of thousands of sticks of scionwood as well as a huge inspiration to apple researchers, orchardists, historians and collectors across North America and beyond. Including me! 

At this point all 119 accessions in the collection have been DNA profiled. My goal today was to put together a document with all the results as well as suggested action items for those accessions that need further testing or research. I sent off a draft to the Historic Fruit Tree Working Group and received a number of corrections and additions from Cameron Peace to incorporate into the document. I will post a link to it in the coming days. 

On Saturday, November 15, Todd Little-Siebold and I will give a presentation at Tower Hill that will focus on the history of apples in New England, including Tower Hill. If you’re in the area, come join us.

November 12, 2025

Today in the orchard

It’s not often that I quote newspapers in the Orchard Report, but never say never. Here’s the latest from USA Today: “A strong geomagnetic storm means there is a chance to see the aurora borealis, not just one night this week, but three over New Hampshire and Maine. …NOAA’s Space Weather Prediction Center issued a watch for a G4 geomagnetic storm on Nov. 11. They said the storm will be severe on Nov.12 strong on Nov. 13 and minor on Nov. 14.”The paper was correct. Late last night we did have northern lights which Skylar was able to photograph during a break in the clouds while on a late night drive. There were also northern lights in a bunch of other locations across the US. 

I guess you could say that winter is just around the corner. Last night it snowed about an inch. It eventually melted but it is a reminder of things to come. After a breakfast of oatmeal and Belle de Boskoop sauce, I worked  until midday on sorting identification priorities. In the afternoon we put on more tree-guards. By then the grass was snow-free and the temperature had warmed up enough to give us a few hours of perfect weather to be out in the orchard. 

November 11, 2025

Today in the orchard

Time to say goodbye to the Norton Greenings for 2025. They have officially reached their limit. It’s a great apple, but, alas, like many other early fall cultivars, it doesn’t keep. Before we bid farewell, however, I should share some new information I learned from Dorothy Rosenberg in Harpswell on Sunday about the apple’s history. 

Although I was correct that the seedling was planted (or first discovered) at the Norton “old farmhouse” in Harpswell, I had the wrong person for whom it was planted. I had thought that the seed (or seedling) was planted on the day of Helen Norton’s birth.  But that was incorrect. Helen Norton was not born a Norton, she was born Helen Appel. The seed (or seedling) actually dates from the birth day of Helen’s sister-in-law Hannah Dring (nee Norton).

I think I may have met Helen Norton with Roberto McIntyre some years ago, but I don’t believe I’ve met Hannah Dring. Both women are still living as far as I know, and both are well into their 90’s. I need to go say hello and tell them how much I love ”their” apple… and that I hope I now have the story straight.

One added note about the Norton Greening. The original tree died a few years ago. By then I had recognized its value and had grafted it up here on our farm. We subsequently grafted a few trees from our wood and reintroduced it to Harpswell.  What goes around, comes around!