R.I.P.
Friday, July 10, 2009 at 12:20AM 
This is an obituary.
Lycopersicon esculentum 'Yellow Pear': April 19 - July 2, 2009
Lycopersicon esculentum 'Orange Flamme': April 19 - July 1, 2009
Lycopersicon esculentum 'Green Zebra': March 3 - July 2, 2009
Last week I mourned the loss of three of my heirloom tomato plants - a Yellow Pear, an Orange Flamme, and a Green Zebra. I knew that their chances of survival were compromised from the start - they had no built in disease resistance like their hybrid neighbors - but I was lured by their unconventional colors, the promise of a richer, sweeter fruit, and perhaps the challenge and mystique of growing antique tomato varieties in a world full of hybrids. Though their time in the Alabama dirt was short, they offered what they could, and they fought the elements as best as their genetic codes would allow, trying hard to adapt from a wet May, when they were showing off their growing power and forming prodigious green fruits, to a terribly dry June, where a month without rain caused their once supple leaves to curl and morph into tough, leathery armor - a defense against those unkind elements. And then, just like that, the cellulose gave up its fight. What once were hardy stems of green, yellowed and withered. Leaves relinquished their photosynthetic duties, until at last they crumpled and died.
But I should also tell you of their tenacity - of their determination to bear us fruit, even when they stood bare, stripped of their leaves. In what is sure to be a fanfare farewell, a final botanical denouement, otherwise dead tomato plants held multitudes of Yellow Pear tomatoes and the apricot-colored Orange Flammes (the Green Zebra, unfortunately, left no fruit). I acknowledged their gifts. And after harvesting what each plant had given to me, I pulled it up.
Our tomato plants died of natural causes. Although, a direct cause of death was not determined, it is likely they succumbed to Early Blight or Fusarium Wilt. But, Spotted Leaf Curl Virus and Verticillium Wilt cannot be ruled out. They were survived by their heirloom brothers and sisters: Cherokee Purple, Abraham Lincoln, Sungold, Black Cherry, Green Zebra, and Brandywine, their extended hybrid family: Better Boy, Big Boy, and Parks Whoppers, and all of those living things that shared a life with them in the garden (see below).
You will be missed.
(Funeral flower arrangement at top of page provided by the gardener. The zinnias grew close to one of the fallen.)
Reader Comments (3)
Although I'm sad to read this news, I have to admit this is one of my favorite posts so far - especially the comment on the flower arrangement. It's good you can find humor in your sorrow. SBG
That was beautiful. Will you write my eulogy?
Beautifully written, I almost shed a tear for the lost garden members.