pendragon orchard and vine

Long after apples are gone and pears are stored away, the medlar still hangs—brown, frost-touched, and waiting. It’s a fruit that sweetens only after the cold, a reminder that not everything worth tasting comes in season.

A dense patch of Jerusalem artichokes with tall green stalks and bright yellow sunflower-like blooms, growing along a hillside with trees in the background.

Since the first monastery gardens of Europe, growers have wrestled with the same quiet dilemma—how to fit Eden into a courtyard. The problem is not new. Every walled garden, every cloister orchard, was a study in constraint: soil, sun, and stone dictating what could live together and what must be left out. Space has always been the gardener’s first teacher.

Learn how to tap a bigleaf maple and make your own Pacific Northwest syrup. A field guide from Pendragon Orchard & Vine—part adventure, part craft, and all patience—turning rain, pressure, and fire into sweetness.