The orange trees are doing their springee thingee, blossoming their potent white five pointed stars, it’s orange blossom season, and I’m just overwhelmed with olfactory orgasms. Okay, maybe orgasm isn’t the best way to describe my sensory intoxication…..the fragrance doesn’t send me into sexy spasms, instead it stops me in my tracks, and I am suddenly HERE NOW. My nose tethering me to whatever is present tense, the fragrance is so big and sweet and everywhere, there is simply no room for small talk. Olfactory ecstasy.
We have 4 decorative orange trees lining the west side of our driveway, “decorative” orange trees make non- edible oranges. They are super dry and bitter, and just plain bad. They are not made to eat, they are made to fool sweet hungry little girls into ringing your doorbell while their mother stands by to ask, “is it okay if we pick some of your oranges?”, and it breaks my heart to tell her, “they are just for looks, not for eating, I’m so sorry.” She looks confused, like she thinks I might be lying cause I’m a stingy white woman who doesn’t want to share her oranges. I tell her she can go ahead and try one, but I assure her they taste really bad. She doesn’t try one, and she and her equally confused mother leave, on to the next house, where I really hope they have edibles.
I don’t know why anyone would ever decide to create such an unfortunate genetic variation. Do you? The thing is, the blossoms are AMAZING. Seriously, the fruit is shit, and the flowers are nonpareil. I stop and smell before I get into my car, I stop before I get out of my car….I linger too long in the driveway, nose in the air, eyes closed, my already questionable sanity being questioned some more by nosey neighbors, I am in a trance. The smell is so sweet , it comforts my soul like french fries, Godiva, and creme brulee before my period. I wish I could post the smell on facebook, text it, email it, I want to SHARE IT. C’mon aliens, where’s that new technology already????
Tonite I got out of my car, stopped , sucked in a bunch of smelly air, was then drunk, walked to my front door, put the key in, stopped, smelled some more, took the key out, turned around, walked into the front yard and layed down in the grass. The sky is full of stars, the sky is big and dark blue and full of little white stars, and one airplane whooshing across the canvas with flashing red lights . The grass is cool through my scrubs, the earth smells dirty, dirt and grass smell mixing with sweet orange blossom smell. My body is fully surrendered and supported, and my mind is now the sky, and I am for a few moments , everything all at once.
Then my phone rings and it’s Maria, and she is wondering about this pain in her nose that she’s had for a couple of days after enduring a painful sinus infection, and do I think she should worry, and it feels like she had her nose pierced, but she didn’t, and do I think it’ s just irritated, or should she worry, and Steven wants to have sex, but Lost is on in 10 minutes, and is he kidding??? …..and what am I doing?
I’m laying in the grass, looking at the stars, smelling dirt, grass, and orange blossoms., and listening to you. I am holding it all at once.
That sounds lovely she says.
Yes, it is. It all is.