Olive tree

An olive tree and a free terracotta pot for less than fifteen pounds had to be good deal and when I saw it advertised on the television my eyebrows were raised and my interest piqued.  I even had to check it on line just to make sure.  The picture on the web page showed a tree that was around a hundred years old and full of character, gnarled by the weather and shaped by years of harvesting but I wasn’t surprised when I arrived at the out of town store to find the offer was for much younger trees.  It still seemed to be a bargain and so we are now the proud owners of a well proportioned young tree with a fine bushy head, about fifty centimetres tall and a trunk with a girth to match. The free pot was in a very traditional shape, just like you would find in the Flower Pot Men and is disproportionately large giving plenty of growing room for the future.  

The olive tree holds a special place in my mind.  It is an icon of the Mediterranean and has a shared history with mankind.  It is the tree of myth and legend with its branches used not only as symbols of peace abut also of abundance and glory, with its oil used to anoint, provide light and food.  Its grey green leaves are always redolent of summer trips to southern Europe in either the baking hot stony fields of Almeria or the rolling green hills of Tuscany, each tree telling its own story, twisted and shaped like Bonsai. 

I’ve got it in the car now and it is going to look beautiful in the warm and sunny spot in our back garden, just outside the kitchen door.   Of course we will have to look after it by keeping an eye out for frost well into May and by making sure that it is watered and fed between March and September, at least that’s what the label says that is attached to the plant.  It is very slow growing but I am especially looking forward to when it flowers and fruits and who can say if one day we may enjoy tasting our own olives in that shaken but not stirred Martini or with a nice piece of Feta cheese.