A Mast Year

September 16, 2025

Everyone I talk to is noticing the same thing. Our apple trees are absolutely loaded this year. The skyline is a polka dot landscape of red, green and yellow. It’s so noticeable that it is a regular topic of conversation. And it’s the wild trees that I’m talking about. Cultivated trees could be experiencing the same boom but there really aren’t any of those in my neighbourhood. The branches are heavy and drooping from the weight of it all. Not only are there a lot of apples but the apples themselves are quite large. Much larger than the usual ping pong sized offering wild trees are famous for. The best part is that so many of them are completely intact. There are no worm holes or bug marks.

I remember being shocked to learn that the seeds of apple trees do not produce the same apple that the seed came from. It’s more like that apple is the parent and the seed is the child. It will have some of the characteristics of the parent but it will never be the same. It seems obvious when I think about it now but it took me a while to digest the information the first time I heard it. I think this might be why wild apple trees get a bad name. You never know what you’re going to get. But I like to think of it this way: every apple (before genetic intervention) started as a wild apple. Some of them were just so good that people found a way to graft the trees so that we could keep that delicious apple from dying out.

There are a lot of wild apple trees here. They’re on the side of the road, clinging to the slopes of ditches, edging old railway lines and hiding in the middle of woodlots. For years now, when I see a tree that looks particularly good, I’ll try the apples. I’ve never tried as many as I have this year. I’m not kidding. There are apples everywhere this year. I had one that was crunchy, juicy, and sweet with just the right hint of sour. I had one that was soft, almost like a pear that had an equally soft flavour that left a hint of cotton candy. One that was crunchy and started out with a tart sweetness but ended on a sour note that just wouldn’t quit. One was almost tasteless and not even worth chewing. And another so tart and almost bitter it seemed to take the moisture right out of my mouth. But it’s so fun to try them. And when you find a good one, you load up your pockets! Or if you’re a good planner like me, you load up a bag.

Matt reads a lot of books on nature and especially books about trees. It’s because of him that I learned this is what scientists call a Mast Year. Every once in a while trees that bear fruit, berries or nuts collectively over produce in order to spread more fruit than can possibly be eaten by critters, bugs or humans thus increasing the likelihood that new trees will sprout and grow. I love Mother Nature more and more every day.