And an olive came down the mountain

On a dull morning with rain threatening, we went up the mountain to the village above the quinta to meet the man with the digger. He had some olive trees he was digging up to plant a vineyard and he knew I was looking for one. We followed him up the mountain tracks to a slope above the village and he threw his arms wide. ‘Choose!”

I looked at the sorry-looking specimens, some of which were still hiding beneath a choking mantle of brambles and bracken, and wondered whether I should just say no thanks right away …

But olives are tough trees. And these ones growing 550m up on an exposed mountainside at the present limit of cultivated land, surviving years of vegetative burial and neglect, surely had to be among the toughest? Perhaps one of these would be more likely to respond well after replanting at a lower altitude than a larger well-maintained tree would brought up from the valleys?

But which to choose? There were trees with single trunks and others with several main stems, some showing lots of vigour and some barely alive. The most vigorous-looking tree had little spread after being pruned right back to the trunk. Another, already flowering with lots of new growth and a good spread had rot setting in at the base of one of its main stems so would lose it in a year or two. None seemed ideal, except for a couple over the fence in a neighbouring plot, but they weren’t for the taking …

In the end, I compromised and chose one of reasonable vigour and reasonable spread. With some care and lots of water it should come right back in a couple of years and grow to become a good sized productive tree.

Pushing the tree into the bucket as the digger scoops it up

The plan was to put it on the back of the tractor, but it was small enough for the digger to carry it down in the bucket

Lashing the tree to the bucket

Arriving 200m below

Scooping out the soil in the planting position

Big hole. Little tree. We had to fill some of it in again …

Lowering the tree into position

Levelling out the soil

Looking like it’s always been there

And suddenly both space and tree are transformed. A scabby little tree on a mountainside becomes a thing of beauty in front of a house, even in the driving rain. I’m glad I rescued this little tree from the fireplace rather than going for a bigger one. It seems somehow more fitting. And with perfect timing, it’s now raining heavily to water it in.