Local Gardener Enjoys The Ancient Art Of Espalier

Last week Fred Langton sent me an email that stated the following:

"If you want to do a story on espalier, today would be a great day to get some photos. My trees are in full, glorious bloom."

I grabbed my camera and car keys and headed out the door. I'd been waiting for months.

I first met Langton when I wrote about. He and his wife, Diane, live within a showcase of skillful gardening that surrounds their University Place home, but nothing impressed me as much as his "Belgian fence." Bare of leaves during the winter, it appeared as a lattice of crisscrossed apple trunks and branches running along the property line. He promised to invite me back to see it in bloom.

The word "espalier" means the art of shaping young fruit trees through carefully planned pruning and training, to grow flat along a fence or wall. They become two-dimensional living sculptures in one of various shapes like "fan," "candelabra," or "Belgian fence," to name a few. The word "espalier" also refers to the manipulated tree itself.

People discovered many centuries ago, that trees grown this way took up far less room in confined spaces, such as walled gardens or courtyards. Espaliered trees also had fewer diseases than natural trees, and bore more fruit, which could be easily reached for harvesting. But that's only part of it. Espalier also became an art form, an opportunity for creativity. Langton loves that part.

Many people in Univeristy Place know him from his past work as the dedicated volunteer orchardist who designed the espalier on Grandview Drive West that spells out, in giant letters, .

But that is only one example of Langton's artistic way with apple trees. And pears. And more.

Espaliered apple varieties grow against the side of his house too, done in the "candelabra" style, as is a pear tree that borders the driveway along with his latest experiment, an Italian prune plum he is training into a fan shape.

You can see both in Video No. 1.  In Video No. 2, Langton discusses the Belgian fence and gives more "how to" information, enough to make you want to try this yourself.

During my tour of the garden, mason bees worked among the white apple blossoms that fluttered in the breeze. I watched them spread pollen from one bloom to the next and imagined the apples that would hang there a few months later in the warmth of the autumn sun, not too sweet, not too tart, and heavy with juice.

I can tell right now, that journalistic duty will require me to return to the Langton espalier orchard for a seasonal follow-up report.

As the old saying goes, "It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it." Maybe Diane will even bake a pie.