Among the early memories of my grandparents’ home in Laguna Beach was their backyard. Their lot in the village was small, about 6000 square feet but nicely sized for their 700 square foot cottage built in the 1940’s.

Even on a small lot, Ralph and Jean Bell had five backyard fruit trees. The mission fig sent horizontal branches sprawling in a rear corner, creating mysterious, cool shade. Orange and lemon trees were essential for my grandmother’s legendary orange marmalade. They had one of each.

Two stone fruit trees added privacy along the back fence. I recall the delicate ‘Babcock’ white peach. Dishes of sliced peaches were a seasonal dessert. Occasionally, my grandfather would hand churn peach ice cream for a Sunday summer dinner. I planted a ‘Babcock’ peach in my backyard to reclaim that memory. The other stone fruit tree was a yellow peach or a Blenheim apricot.

Then there was a sweet little tree, child-sized at about three feet as I recall. It was a strawberry guava, producing sweet-tart red fruit. My grandmother made a lovely pink-tinted guava jelly. About fifteen years ago I planted a strawberry guava tree in a warm corner of my backyard. That tree now reaches up ten feet and produces several crops each year. I make strawberry guava jam and puree. I think of my grandmother. Forty years of fruit came from those trees and my grandfather maintained them until his death.

My grandparents’ backyard fruit was a testimony to what can be done on a small city lot. Fruit trees had both ornamental and food value. Artistically arranged, the fruit trees created garden rooms, a sense of mystery and shady hideouts for children.