fruit notes

In April, word comes slowly at first, in guarded, hedged updates. It’s looking like a light year. Follow-up questions are met with vague replies, which you might mistake for obfuscation if you didn’t know better. From the mouth of a straight-shooting farmer, it’s puzzling. 

By early May, it’s become clear that the hunches were right. Numbers have started to come in and they are not good. By the end of the month, the county Ag Commissioner has requested a disaster declaration, projecting the 2025 cherry crop will be nearly 50% below average. To paraphrase a grower quoted by a Sacramento area news station, we’re going to be talking about this year for decades to come.

The irony is that it’s actually a great year for cherry size and quality. With a light crop, the trees can push more energy and nutrients to what fruit there is. The only outward sign of trouble to the fruit-eating public may be the early end to California cherries, which could wrap up weeks ahead of schedule. Due to subtle changes in microclimate, yields can vary wildly from block to block, making it hard to generalize the bigger picture from one orchard. The helps explain the cautious pessimism of April.

Seeking answers to the why yields a picture as murky as those early season forecasts. San Joaquin County saw 41 days over 100 degrees last summer. Such extreme heat inhibits flower bud formation, making for fewer blossoms the following spring. Early this year, after those buds had become blossoms, the county experienced a mini heatwave, with temps reaching 80 degrees in March – and a rainstorm – damaging some of the flowers. In that same period, pollination was likely inhibited by a wind event. It dawns on me that these aren’t competing explanations so much as contributing factors, pressure from all sides.

To produce fruit, cherries (along with apples, pears, other stone fruit, etc) need what’s called chill hours. Chill hours refer to the cumulative time under 45 degrees, but above freezing, during the tree’s dormant period. Simply put, cherries in particular need cold, frost-free winters. Sour cherries need upwards of 1,200 chill hours. Bings, the greatest cherry on earth as far as I’m concerned, 700-900. Some newer sweet cherry varieties might only need a couple hundred. But even then, the warmer winters brought by a warming climate pose an existential threat to cherry growing. 

Consider the future of cherries in California and words begin to fail. Grim, somehow, is an understatement. Apocalyptic seems inappropriate — we’re talking about fruit — but it’s closer to the truth. A comprehensive review by UC scientists from 2018 entitled Climate Change Trends and Impacts on California Agriculture notes that 25 years ago, only 4% of Central Valley farmland was suitable for growing cherries. Looking forward, climate modeling suggests “virtually no areas will remain suitable [for growing cherries] by 2041-2060 under any emissions scenario.” Erratic weather events and unseasonable warm spells induced by climate change will surely wreak havoc on harvests in the meantime. I’m eager to search for glimmers of optimism. Maybe we could think our way out of the problem, by breeding new low-chill varieties more amenable to a warmer climate, for instance. But with projections so dire, this optimism seems foolish.

Reconsider that grower’s quote — that we’ll be remembering the 2025 season for decades to come — and it takes on new meaning. California cherries may come to disappear except in memory. It seems the only sensible thing to do is to continue investing in local food systems. They will look different in the future, but in the long run they will surely prove more resilient than consolidated agriculture. 

And what else is there to do? To savor the cherries while we have them.

Today’s fruit

Bing cherries from Chinchiolo Family Farms. Grown organically in Escalon.

Rose Diamond yellow nectarines from Masumoto Family Farm. Grown organically in Del Rey.

Pakistan mulberries from Frog Hollow Farm. Grown organically in Brentwood.

San Joaquin blueberries from Coastal Moon Farm. Grown organically in Watsonville.

Chandler strawberries from Swanton Berry Farm. Grown organically in Davenport.

Magic & Lily apricots from Heartwood Farms. Grown organically in Linden.