Ripe oranges


The orange trees, lemon trees, and grapefruit trees behind my parent's house were hung heavy with ripe fruit. Each one dropped into my hands with the slightest tug, and they tasted juicy and sweet. I knew as I was walking back there with my son, weighed down by my bag of fruit and the heat of the sun, my toes exposed to the weeds and twigs, that there would be no way to do anything remotely so decadent on an Icelandic farm. 

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Anonymous said…
AAAAhhh.
March 3, 2009 at 9:12 AM
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