The most important element is growing blueberries is soil composition. To make most of your blueberry planting, begin necessary soil amendments year before planting. Blueberries grow best in loose, sandy loam. Although you may run across wild blueberries growing in a bog, on closer inspection you’ll see that plants grow on small, natural hills.

Blueberries need moisture retentive, well-drained, humus-rich soil with good aeration. Soil acidity is also very important in growing blueberries. Plants need a pH of 4.0 to no more than 5.0 to thrive. Initially, bring pH down to acceptable levels with sulphur or 4 to 6 inches of acid peat mixed into first 6 to 8 inches of topsoil. Also, enrich soil with good organic compost.

Planting blueberries

Although most blueberries self-pollinate, plant two or more varieties within a type for a larger harvest of more voluptuous fruits. Five plants provide enough blueberries for fresh eating, drying, and preserving for a family of four.

Plant blueberries in spring after all danger of frost passes. When growing several plants, you may find it easier to prepare a bed rather than digging holes for individual plants. Add a generous portion of peat moss to your trench or hole both to increase organic content and to ensure continued soil acidity.

Standard spacing for highbush, half-high, and rabbiteye bushes is five to six feet apart in rows eight to ten feet distant. Dig holes or make your row three to four inches deeper than size of root balls. Pack soil firmly around roots of each plant.

Plant lowbush varieties one to three feet apart in rows three to four feet distant. Cover about a third of top stems with soil to encourage runners to develop.

Once established, a blueberry bush may remain productive for decades with just a minimum of care. The second part of this article is available on site author writes for.

When black raspberries got ripe, neighborhood grownups and children gathered to gobble down undisciplined berries warm with sun and eye each other and laugh for sheer happiness.

As a hedge, they were a mistake. As a treat, they were fabulous.

The main hedge facing street was a row of Nanking cherry bushes about eight feet high. In early spring they were covered with tiny pearl-like buds and white blooms. In summer they glistened with red cherries within lush green growth. The cherries tasted like a cross between pie cherries and sweet cherries. They were good.

One summer day I looked out window and saw a little boy coming down street. I didn't recognize him, but he apparently recognized ripe cherries when he saw them. He stopped and stared at bushes, then moved in closer. I was about to go to door and tell him to take all cherries he wanted, but then I realized he was trying a new maneuver. He turned around facing street and began to back up to bushes. Aha! I thought. That kid's had some education that didn't come from books.

His technique was pretty good. He looked blandly into distance as branches behind him jiggled up and down. When his hands were filled with cherries, he started off running. And I ran too -- to door. I meant to call out, "Little boy! Little boy! Come back." But then I realized that would just make him run faster.

I wanted to say, "You can eat my cherries all afternoon, if you like." But by that time, in a splendid burst of speed, he had rounded corner and was out of sight.

You can come back any time, little boy.