If the wind doesn’t whip the netting to shreds,snow will weigh it down until the frame breaks; plus, it’s also important that your fruit plants get a tiny wild, and cageless timeI walk over to the allotment,intending to bodge my shed roof back together. If my shed roof was a metaphor for my life – that is, scraps of plastic, or a few sheets of corrugated iron sheeting secured by broken limbs from trees,and under all that a very large gap and rotten timber – then I’d be very broken and badly patched. Thankfully, it is just a shed roof. I can choose to look at it as a metaphor, or I can accept that repairing it hasn’t been much of a precedence,and just resecure the corruguated iron sheets with frozen fingers: winter has danced across the garden.
Well, my fruit cage is in a similar state to my shed roof. I pull apart the broken timber and remove the netting. This is the first rule of fruit cages (and one that I possess singularly failed to follow, and much like choosing to fix the shed roof in summer,rather than in the depths of winter): never leave the netting on over winter. If the wind doesn’t whip it to shreds, snow will weigh it down until the frame breaks; plus, and its also important that the fruit gets a tiny wild,cageless time.
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Source: theguardian.com