The Grove Begins
In the spring of 2022, Alyssa and I had a stroke of what could only be described as good fortune in disguise. The house we were purchasing at the peak of the Austin housing-market boom was leveled by a tornado.
At the time, it felt like a cruel twist of fate. The place had its fair share of issues: a crowded neighborhood, little usable yard space, and clear signs of foundation trouble we were conveniently overlooking because it had four walls, a roof, and we were eager to start our family. After all, it was the 15th house we’d made an offer on—surely this was the one.
Then just a few days later, a new listing appeared in a familiar area—a home that was everything we truly wanted. One acre of fertile Texas soil, open skies, and room to grow. For two people with budding dreams of self-sufficiency through backyard homesteading, it felt like divine providence. Acclimating to home ownership wasn’t nearly as stressful as the home-buying process, and we still wake up every morning feeling incredibly grateful.
The Secret of a Green Thumb
Settling in was one thing. Setting down roots was another. Figuring out how to keep a plant alive in our backyard turned out to be quite the task. In my excitement, I started planting fruit trees in the blazing heat of the Texas summer with all the naive confidence of a beginner gardener, just plopping fruit trees from their pots into the heavy clay soil and hoping for the best.
They all died. Even the "un-killable" dwarf fig tree. Poor Little Miss Figgy never stood a chance against my death-dealing black thumbs.
I like taking good care of things, so that experience stung. It didn't take long for me to realize there was more to the equation than "tree plus dirt equals success". I'd overlooked a whole world of nuance. As I dug deeper, I began learning about how things like soil pH, nutrient balance, water retention, and light exposure affect plant health.
And I discovered the real secret of a green thumb: curiosity. When you take the time to understand what a plant needs—and give it exactly that—it rewards you with abundance. Today, our backyard is home to seven happy fruit trees: a Sam Houston peach, a Bartlett pear, and five fig varieties. Six more figs are thriving in pots, waiting to be planted this fall or next spring.
Figs, I've learned, can be astonishingly productive. As a kid, my neighbor had a fig tree whose branches reached into our yard. Every summer, we gorged ourselves on the fruit like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet of figgy wonder. I wish I knew what variety it was; with over 1,000 distinct fig types, they have the widest range of flavor and texture of any fruit tree. Some, like the rare Black Madeira, are considered among the best-tasting fruits on Earth!
Ancient Fruit, Timeless Wonder
Beyond my personal history with figs, another thrill of growing them is discovering their role in jump-starting human history more broadly. They were humanity's earliest known cultivated crop, carried by Phoenician sailors across the Mediterranean, planted by Roman settlers in Europe, and collected by royalty like King Louis XIV, who amassed over 700 varieties.
Fresh, tree-ripened figs are unmatched. But they can also be dried and stored for up to a year, making them a cornerstone of ancient diets—calorie-dense, nutrient-rich, and life-sustaining through famine.
In today's fragile, fast-paced world, there's something deeply grounding about growing a food source that has nourished people for over 10,000 years.
Where We're Growing Next
That's why we started planting fig tress in our backyard—and why our passion for them has grown far beyond it. In fact, just last week, we potted 278 young fig trees.
This isn't just about fruit. It's about resilience, tradition, and the simple joy of eating something fresh from your own land. It's about planting something today that will feed you, your family, and maybe even your neighbors for decades to come.
This is Lone Grove—rooted in history, growing toward the future.
