Our corbezzolo tree

Compared to other places we have lived, this house has a tiny yard. There is a bit of grass in the back, with a couple of trees, surrounded by a privacy fence. The fence isn’t tall enough for the yard to feel very private, however, as the neighbors’ homes are, like ours, two stories high and we can clearly see the upper story windows above the fence. Presumably they can see our yard from those windows as well. In front, we have a double driveway, so there isn’t much grass. There is a row of conical junipers separating our lawn from that of our neighbor to the west. In addition there are three ornamental shrubs. One of those shrubs, planted where the sidewalk coming off our front porch turns toward the driveway, sported bright red fruit when we moved into the house in October. The berries were eventually eaten by the birds and the leaves have fallen off. We were occupied with the tasks of moving into the house and I haven’t spent much time learning about our yard and the plants growing there, but I was curious about the bush with the bright red berries and have looked it up.

The plant is not native to this part of the world, but seems to be thriving in its place in our yard. It is called a strawberry tree and it is native to the island of Sardinia. In Italian, the tree is called corbezzolo. The Italian poet Giovanni Pascoli noted the colors of the Italian flag in the corbezzolo tree - green, glossy leaves, white flowers, and red berries. The tree blooms in the autumn, later than many other plants. Pascoli wrote an Ode to the Corbezzolo in 1906:

"O verde albero italico, il tuo maggio è nella bruma: s'anche tutto muora, tu il giovanile gonfalon selvaggio, spieghi alla bora." "Oh green Italian tree, your May month is in the mist: even if everything else dies, you, the youthful wild banner, unfold to the northern wind."

Sardinia doesn’t offer a particularly harsh climate, but Pascoli imagined the struggle of the plants to survive on the windswept mountains of the island.

Philosopher and lawyer Marcus Tullius Cicero, who lived from 106 - 43 BCE, was not a fan of Sardinia. “Everything that the island of Sardinia produces, men and things, is bad!” he exclaimed. Then he offered his critique of the strawberry tree in an indirect way - he criticized the honey that bees make from the flowers of the tree. Sardinian corbezzolo honey is distinctive. It isn’t sweet, but rather surprisingly bitter, with hints of leather, licorice, and smoke. Beekeepers have been setting up beehives an collecting corbezzolo honey for more than 2,000 years.

Corbezzolo honey may lack the sweetness usually associated with honey, but it is prized for its healing properties. It is packed with nutrients, vitamins and minerals. It is known to have anti-inflammatory properties. The natives of Sardinia have been known for their long lives for generations. Many inhabitants of the island live to more than 100 years old. Some of them claim that corbezzolo honey is the reason for their longevity.

It has struck me that there is a strange coincidence with the strawberry tree in my front yard. On Epiphany Sunday each year, members of our congregation are given a single word to contemplate for the year. On the following Epiphany Sunday, they share their words and tell stories of how that word has come to have new meaning for their lives. In 2021, my star word was plan. It was a year that defied planning, as the pandemic altered our travel plans, our search for a house proved to be more challenging than we anticipated, and we came out of retirement and went back to work when a position that seemed matched to our skills became available. I couldn’t find many stories of how “plan” had marked my 2021. This year, my star word is longevity. Perhaps there is a link between my star word and the strawberry tree in my front yard.

A week ago, I completed the course and passed the test to be certified as a beginner bee keeper in the State of Washington. I am not planning to have hives this year. Furthermore, I have no intention of placing my hives to produce corbezzolo honey. I have only one of the bushes in my yard, and they aren’t common around here. And it is my intention to place the hives, if and when I get them, at our son’s farm, where the orchard boasts apples, pears and plums and where there are abundant strawberry, blueberry, and blackberry bushes. The hay field is yellow with dandelions in the spring and the bees will find lots of sources of pollen. Perhaps in a few years, they will produce honey for us to harvest and share with our family and friends. It won’t be the bitter corbezzolo honey prized by Sicilians, and crirticized by Cicero, however. “Even the honey, abundant on that island, is bitter!”

The bush in my front yard will remain a novelty. Perhaps this fall, after it has flowered and produced fruit, I may taste one of the fruits. I’ve been led to believe that they aren’’t very tasty. They do, however, attract hummingbirds, and the thought of the tiny creatures withe the very fast wings frequenting my south-facing front porch is a pleasant one. The humming birds around here seem to mostly be green in color, so they will blend in with the leaves of the bush, but stand out against the small fruit.

All of that, however, is in the future. We’ve had a few spring-like days here in early March, but summer is a ways away and the corbezzolo bush won’t even get its blossoms until August or September. That gives me even more time to learn about the plants growing in my yard and what I must do to care for them. I’ll be wondering about the taste and the qualities of the fruit of the trees. Perhaps the humming birds will notice that the fruit isn’t sweet like other fruit. On the other hand, perhaps it will be healthy for them and help them achieve longevity.

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