Purloined Fruit to Unwanted Fruit

The purloined Poncirius has made fruit for the first time. I could be pleased, but I am not.

This is a cautionary tale for all you seed stealers out there. Be careful what you wish for. When you get it, it may cause pain.

This is all my fault. I saw the Poncirius trifoliata at an undisclosed plantation. I was fascinated by its long green thorns. It is a plant nobody will mess with.

I carefully picked a small, fuzzy yellow fruit and stored it in an undisclosed location on my person. The fruit was forgotten until bedtime. It rolled across the floor as I was switching into pajamas.

The fruit went home. The seeds were saved, then carefully planted in pots. The plants grew quickly. I planted two in the ground to see if they would survive our winters in zone 7.

The two hardy shrubs are taller than I am. They are lovely with dense foliage. This could be the end, but there is a dark secret. Poncirius trifoliata can be invasive.

Ponciriu/Citrus trifoliata: Flying dragon

I told myself it could not happen here. I was wrong. I know of two giant shrubs of  Poncirius/Citrus trifoliata beside Highway 321 past Lenoir. That is zone 6. I cannot trust these two to stay put. I cannot allow the fruit to get loose.

These shrubs are nicknamed Flying dragons. The fruit is hardy orange or bitter orange. It is deer resistant, but that will not save it.

Poncirius trifoliata with bitter, hardy oranges.

I picked all the fuzzy, little oranges and took them in. There was bleeding involved as usual. This is the meanest plant I have ever had.

I will not sadden you with my plans for the two trees. I must be responsible. This fruit produces a formidible foe that must be contained.

I fell in love with its dangerous thorns, stole its usless fruit, sacrificed my blood while caring for it. I don’t have a lick of sense when it comes to plants.

FLOW

Only Thorns: No Blooms nor Fruit

Does this sound like a shrub you could love?
I have grown two small trees/shrubs of Poncirius trifoliata from seeds. I purloined the fruit from a Chinese bitter orange tree during a trip to Charleston years ago.

It’s the thorns that got me.

I did not covet it for its fruit nor its blooms. It was its thorns that captivated me.

Poncirius trifoliata thorns


Here is a little tree that can take care of itself. No forager is going to steal its fruit!


I know it can be invasive. I know it is a touch-me-not plant. I do not care if it ever blooms or produces fuzzy, little bitter oranges. I would never make marmalade anyway!

Poncirius: A plant not to be petted.
Not invasive since no fruit…yet.

I love it because it has unmistakable, impenetrable, unapologetic bounderies. This plant screams DO NOT MESS WITH ME!

That is why I love it.

FLOW

The Purloined Poncirus

I must confess to stealing a fruit from a Chinese Bitter Orange tree on a South Carolina plantation many years ago. I need to bare my soul of picking the little citrus and stuffing it into my bra.
I forgot about this stolen cargo until late that night, as I was changing my clothes the shriveled little fruit fell out and rolled across the floor.

Why I felt the need to steal seeds from such a mean little tree is beyond me. I think I was impressed by its long, sharp thorns.


Now I have two mean trees of my own. With equally long and strong thorns.

No fruit yet.
Such is the life of a plant addict. A pinch here…a pick there…

Stashing precious cargo in pockets and undergarments.

Such are the crimes of the afflicted.

FLOW