On Pollinating a Lemon Tree

For our first anniversary, Ethan’s gift to me was a Meyer lemon tree. The traditional gift is paper, paper is made from trees—it works. I love the idea of lemon tree. Spokane’s climate is not idea for citrus, so ours is an indoor tree (potted in the biggest terra cotta pot we could find—it looks so Tuscan). 

Our tree arrived with two ripening fruits—though I was sure we had a lime, not  lemon, tree when it arrived. Of course it makes sense that lemons start out green, but I’d never seen a lemon ripening, and am a bit naïve, apparently. I was convinced by the shape and color, but the two fruits slowly changed we picked two lemons this winter. 

Indoor citrus is supposed to be relatively easy to care for: it needs water and light, but isn’t too fussy. Our tree had a bit of a rough patch this winter, when it lost most of its leaves and had a run of spider mites, but it’s much better after some attention. 

Though I’m pretty good with a garden, I tend to kill houseplants—not too fussy is a necessity, and I hopeful our tree will be okay. The tree should be watered regularly, but takes care of itself otherwise. Until pollination time. Without bees or a breeze to help them along, indoor trees need a pollination boost. 

Our lemon tree began blooming at the end of February, and I learned a few things.

Lessons in pollination:

1. Peter, Paul & Mary do not lie: the lemon flower is sweet. For about a month our living room held a subtle, sweet scent that should really be made into a perfume.
2. A flowering lemon tree is the perfect remedy for a Spokane winter. 
3. Lemon trees are easy to pollinate—all it takes is a Q-tip and a bit of patience during blooming season. 
4. Flower anatomy is fascinating, especially the names of the flower bits. 

Lemon blossoms are perfect flowers. They each contain both female and male parts; they are complete on their own. 

To pollinate lemon blossoms, use a Q-tip to capture pollen from the stamens of the blossoms (the pointy bits covered in yellow pollen). The cotton fibers hold onto pollen well. Gently touch the pollen-heavy end of the Q-tip to the bulbous, female stigma. The stigma is shiny and covered in a sticky substance to hold onto pollen. As the stigma pulls the pollen from the Q-tip, it dulls. Blossoms that don’t actually fertilize through the process will drop from the tree, and those that do will form tiny, dark green fruit. It takes up to four months for Meyer lemons to ripen. 

So far we have fourteen tiny nubs of lemon on our tree. According to the (light) research I’ve done, we’ll lose most of our tiny lemons before they mature—our tree is still young. I can’ t wait to watch them grow, and I secretly hope we have one to pick on our anniversary this year.

That little green nub near the middle? A baby lemon.