pendragon orchard and vine

Most small orchards fail not from neglect, but from excess. Too many trees, ripening at the same moment, planted by familiarity instead of intent. Coherence—timing, purpose, and use aligned—is what turns abundance from waste into return.

Heritage trees don’t respond to correction. They respond to restraint. Their energy is no longer spent on expansion but on maintenance—holding together what time and weather have already negotiated. When you prune them as if they were young, you don’t restore vigor. You trigger panic growth, burn reserves, and shorten what life remains. The work shifts here. It stops being about improvement and becomes about mercy: removing what has already failed, easing loads that are alrea

I found the tree four years ago, growing out of a ditch outside Eastsound. A wild apple, balanced and bright, that led me into older work—of grafting, inheritance, and the quiet restoration that real design requires.