A couple months ago, we got together at my house to draw up our order. We were finishing up a cup of coffee before we got down to business.
"What about locusts?" Becky asked. "They come in both black and golden. Which would you like?"
"They're both ugly," I said. "And it seems like once you have one, they're all over the place."
I wore thick shoes when we went to pick up the trees last week. If Becky ordered any locusts, I wanted to be ready to stomp on them before they spread.
And there were locusts in our order - five black locust TREES.
The black locust trees we ordered will grow fast, and yes - they can be invasive. They do sucker, especially after they've been cut. I planted mine out a ways, and if I put them on a limited water budget, they shouldn't get out of hand.
But I probably wouldn't mind if they did. Of great importance to me, since I just put up a hive of bees, is that locusts are an excellent honey source. I've read that the honey is nearly as clear as water, and of exceptional quality. They only flower for a short time, but since that flowering occurs in late May or early June, after most of the fruit trees are finished, they should be a valuable stop-gap for my bees.
Although black locusts grow fast, the wood is exceptionally hard, and makes wonderful rot-resistant fence posts. If Wikipedia knows anything, they also make excellent firewood, and although they're difficult to ignite, they will even burn before they're seasoned. If it weren't for the locust borer - which is apparently not a problem here - black locusts would be an important lumber crop in the Eastern United States, where it is native.
But wait - there's more. Black locusts fix nitrogen as well, as do many of the trees on the 4-H plant list: caragana, Russian olive, buffalo berry among them. I'm always impressed by trees that fix nitrogen, and I've planted all of the above species. I'm dubious about their value as nitrogen-fixers, though. I would prefer to have the nitrogen where I'll be planting my vegetables, and I can't think it's wise to plant trees of any kind in my garden beds. The self-same roots that fix the nitrogen would probably out-compete my corn, and would shade it out in any case.
Although honey locust was behind the door we did not choose, I've got them on my list for next year. Names are ironic - bees will not make honey from honey locust. Honey locusts, or Gleditsia triacanthos, are not even in the same genus as black locusts, or Robinia pseudoacacia.
They're quite a lot alike. The foliage looks the same, and both produce pods. However, black locust pods are poisonous, and honey locust pods are edible. In fact, the sweet taste of the pulp is where the name "honey locust" comes from. The tree itself comes from the Midwest, from South Dakota to Texas, and east from there.
The tree is easy to transplant, and tolerates alkaline and drought.
The immature pods of the honey locust contain a sweet edible pulp, and the pods and leaves are useful animal feed. Best of all, it's possible to make them into beer. That's my plan.
Let's see - plant them next year, figure six or seven years till they produce pods, a few weeks to brew the beer - yeah. Give me a call in about eight years - I'll invite you over for a glass of honey locust beer.
When Teresa Howell isn't trying to figure out how to make beer out of her plants, she teaches English at Great Basin College.
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