to the forgotten ones
field notes on pawpaw & receiving the gift of seeds
There are Pawpaw seeds in my refrigerator, right next to a bottle of homemade Elderberry syrup.
The Pawpaw seeds landed in my hands in September, when an arborist and friend of Forest & Flowers Retreat, made a visit here to talk about the Hemlocks on this land.
We've seen signs of wooly adelgid on these great ones over the last few years — a concern since wooly adelgid has led to an extensive decline of Eastern Hemlock trees in the eastern United States.
Pawpaw and Eastern Hemlocks are both native trees to Pennsylvania. In fact, Eastern Hemlock was named the state tree in 1931. One is quite well known, and the other, not so much.
Have you ever tasted Pawpaw or seen a tree growing in the wild?
It wasn’t until recently that I got to taste Pawpaw fruit. Wild Pawpaw populations have declined in this region due to habitat loss and land use pressure from humans, like commercial and residential development. The land where I live and steward Forest & Flowers Retreat was heavily logged in the last 75 years. We live in a relatively young forest. Thank goodness for the ancient Hemlocks.
Also, the Pawpaw's two to three week harvest window, short shelf life, and delicate skin cast it out from the requirements of a grocery store, and make it a rare find even at farmers’ markets.
Pawpaw fruit though... imagine a tropical like flavor. It's actually a member of the Annona family, which is mainly tropical. It's the largest edible fruit native to North America and has a flavor combination of a mango and banana, with hints of vanilla and the consistency of custard. I know… I've never tasted a fruit quite like it.
Indigenous people most certainly cultivated Pawpaw in this region. In fact, the Shawnee word for September is "ha'siminikiisfwa" which translates to "pawpaw moon or month," signifying that the month coincides with the time when Pawpaw fruit is ripe for harvest.
Native plants like the Pawpaw support biodiversity in our ecosystem. Pawpaws are the only host plant for Zebra Swallowtail Butterfly. The Pawpaw's fruit is a favorite of many animals -- birds, squirrels, and raccoons, to name a few. It's also home to the Pawpaw Sphinx Moth.
We purchased a couple small Pawpaw trees and planted them in our orchard 3 years ago where we had space. They've been slowly growing and… we have room for more Pawpaws here. With the seeds I was gifted in September, I have an opportunity to pot them up soon and watch for growth.
"If our first response to the receipt of gifts is gratitude, then our second is reciprocity: to give a gift in return." -Robin Wall Kimmerer
This winter, I'll devote many hours to planning and researching what to grow in the coming season, in both the established gardens and a new plot I'm grateful to cultivate. I'm clear that this place is for regeneration of the Earth and people. I want to embrace what grows well here, what wants to grow here... and Pawpaws are clearly on the list.
Not only have Pawpaws grown here, they have evolved here — through changing climate, habitat destruction, pollution, and more. Something about this piques my curiosity. I find myself eager to plant all kinds of trees, perennials, flowers, and medicinal plants... but especially the ones that have been wiped out, or are less familiar.
Give me the ones that have been judged unfairly, the ones eradicated by blight, the overharvested and misused ones, the old ones, the ones nobody wants, the forgotten ones. These are the ones I want to grow.
While I have no claim to these Pawpaw seeds, they landed in my hands, a gift. In Robin Wall Kimmerer's book The Serviceberry, she wrote,
"Receiving a gift from the land is coupled to attached responsibilities of sharing, respect, reciprocity, and gratitude -- of which you will be reminded. This kind of gratitude is so much more than a polite "thank you." Not an automatic ritual of "manners," but a recognition of indebtedness than can stop you in your tracks -- it brings you the realization that your life is nurtured from the body of Mother Earth."
Reciprocity doesn't end with this exchange of seeds, or an obligation to plant them. It means keeping the gift in flow, in motion — the way water moves through an ecosystem, and the way a tree drops leaves onto the forest floor. The material is transformed as it moves through cycles, and regeneration is the result of this reciprocity.
To regeneration with Pawpaws, with Eastern Hemlock, with bare land that holds so much capacity for more life… and to a future moment when my hands are filled with Pawpaw seeds, and perhaps they land into yours.
“land use pressure “
Gosh, i am grateful for that phrasing. It’s something i have been pondering since the geological change of the Blue Ridge Mountains from the wind and rain of Helene.
Here we are facing a housing shortage because we rely heavily on tourism (thus too many houses are vacation rentals). Though i can see miles of forest, the land use pressure has been obscene since Asheville was considered a climate haven.🌱🌿💚