a fig tree grows in brooklyn

For the last couple of years that I’ve been reading 66 Square Feet religiously, it’s at this point in the summer that I get blindly jealous. Desperate with envy. Why? you ask. It’s her terrace fig tree.

Now, I know I could grow one myself. And I fully intend to start next summer. But I recently stumbled on an article (and then another, from the New York Times) about the history of fig trees in Brooklyn, and my curiosity was firmly rooted. Could I identify fig trees from the street? Are there any in my neighborhood? How about in the parks of Brooklyn? COULD I PICK SOME FOR MYSELF?!

So I embarked on a search. I know Park Slope, where I live, and neighboring Carroll Gardens, where I regularly bicycle, was once the provenance of many an Italian-American family. And since Italians immigrants began bringing fig trees with them to Brooklyn in the 1880’s, surely there must still be fig trees here. Right? Lo and behold:

After weeks of keeping an eye out for errant fig trees, I found two on my way to develop film. (a sign?) No ripe figs in sight, but certainly their overgrown boughs were heavy with fruit. I found two more on another long walk home, buttoned-up and well-pruned, but with succulent purple gems.

I couldn’t resist. I do recognize the gift. The summer is good.