I have little room in my urban orchard, a 20 square metres car space with 60+ trees. Under those circumstances, you have to play God; I mean I do. A garden is an artificial world. Every decision is woman made, allowing for limitations set by the location.
There is no right or wrong way about it; there’s only your way. Maybe that is why so many of us like to garden. – you, the creator of the garden, decide – everything, even matters of life and death.
To the casual observer my orchard may appear to be a jumble of trees; in fact the air space control is equal to that at the airport.
This morning, when the Myer lemon and the bergamot orange were vying for the sun and threatened to lock horns with their branches, I had to decide which gets right of way. Prune both branches back? They would advance again in the same direction. Taking the limb off one tree would encourage the other to push further into it. Take both limbs off? That would be a shame as both branches are laden with flowers. I am no Solomon.
In the end I tied one down to a brick on the ground and pinned the other back with a stake. Now they will never meet again. Traffic eased and collision averted.