A year ago a freak storm with hail stones the size of golf balls smashed the young sharon fruit tree in our garden and we lost 90% of the harvest. We'd only just moved into the cottage and this poor little tree had received almost no care for years; the previous tenants were not gardeners at all.  But, it was full of flowers and I was thrilled at the prospect of having home-grown sharon fruit.

I was devastated to lose most of the harvest, but I was grateful for the few fruits - about 20 - that we would be able to eat.  I watched the fruits grow with joy, interest and anticipation.  The owner of the farm is an old man, with great wisdom and experience.  He has watched our permaculture efforts with some disdain and much bemusement. He believes in organic practices and it is in our lease agreement that we may not use poisons - which pleases me no end.

The old man has much to say about our garden.  He watched the Silybum and expressed concern about how it would invade beyond our garden.  I assured him it would be fine. Of course, we know how that turned out!

The old man told me that I'd better pick the fruits, otherwise the birds would eat them.  Now, at that stage the sharon fruits were green and the thought of shelf-ripened fruit didn't appeal to me.  So, I monitored the tree and I didn't see one bird close to it. I inspected the fruits and there was no sign of any beak punctures. I was confident that the fruit was safe.

We went away for one night and when we came home I went to check up on the tree.  Every single one of the fruits was gone. Vanished into thin air.  There was not one stalk left. Nothing. No evidence that there'd ever been any fruit at all.

Of course, my first thought was quite uncharitable.  I was convinced my landlord was rather peevy that I had not heeded his advice and picked the fruit as he had suggested, so he must have done so himself.  I stomped around for few days, muttering about the sanctity of my home, and the rights of landlords.

When I next saw his wife (who is a warm, generous and kind person) I gingerly raised the topic of the vanishing fruit and enquired in a very round-about and non-threatening way whether or not they had collected the harvest. She said no. 

Shortly after that, her husband meandered down to our cottage and explained how the birds removed the fruits without leaving any evidence.  I was still sceptical.  I felt a little better when my landlady arrived a few days later with some of the sharon fruit from their tree (duly shelf ripened) but my puzzlement remained.

20 fruits. One night. Gone. Not a trace.

Yeah, right!

Here we are, a year later.  I have been nurturing this tree. I planted a guild of soil doctors and ground covers around it. I have fed it worm tea regularly. I have given it organic tea. I have mulched it. I have watered it. This tree has been pampered because I really want a decent sharon fruit harvest this year. I could tell you how much I have spoken to it, too, but you might just think I am completely bonkers. Which is okay.

It is the same time of the year - first week in August - and there is not a flower in sight. No sign of life. Nada. Nothing.

It looks to me as though the sharon fruit has vanished before it even appeared.

A mystery.