“What do you think of the orange trees around town?” he said.
“I love to look at them,” I said. “They make me feel peaceful when oranges are in season. Why do you ask?”
“Because I love to look at them too,” he said. “They are beautiful, but one day in Capitol Park I tried to eat one. It was horrible. I lost my inspiration.”
“I guess oranges can be like people,” I said. “They appear great, but once you get into them they might not be. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make ourselves beautiful on the outside. It means we should try to be as attractive with our personalities and souls as we are with our nice clothes. It also works the other way. If you are a wonderful person, dress like it.
“The orange trees in Capitol Park are great. They are old. All the oranges don’t taste terrible though. You just have to keep experimenting.
“I remember sitting with a 90 year old and his wife. They had just picked a plastic grocery bag full of oranges and were eating some. They do it every year. They think the oranges taste sweet. I think if they get any less sweet they would not be good.
“Looking at oranges fills me with inspiration too. In November when they get orange, it gives me hope as the days get real short. I never think of oranges as being anything but sweet. It’s a good thing to think about for Christmas. How to be sweet.
“Jesus was sweet, though we never think of him that way. Oranges are a great tonic for our bitter times and for our city which is home to all the bitterness from throughout the state.
“I wish they’d fertililze the trees so the fruit would be sweet. It would be great to have fresh squeezed orange juice at the capitol a couple of times a season. What pride and class our state would have. Our city would glory in it.
“Were you in a hurry when you ate it?” I asked.
“What?” he said.
“When I see people in the park eat an orange, they devour it, or try to. They are just hanging around the park, then they slop like they have to be somewhere and don’t have time to eat.”
“I wasn’t in a hurry,” he said. “I wanted to sit and savor it, but I was disappointed so I left.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “A lot of times I’m disappointed when I look at the oranges in December and January. They are bright and still, so peaceful in the fog. I look at them with all my bitterness and long for my peace and sweetness. I sit to make peace with myself as I marvel at the beauty of the oranges. If the sun breaks through, I think how lucky I am and how great life is.
“I think of how lucky we are to live in California. It is paradise. I mentioned that they ought to fertilize the trees to serve juice in the capitol. It would be a great way to celebrate living in paradise.”
“You’re right,” he said. “The weather here is great.”
“We’ve always known that,” I said. “In 1909 somebody in town wanted to start an Orange Day to make tourists from the east aware of how great our climate is. The plan was to plant orange groves in land visible from the railroad and orange trees at train stations.
“People would see proof our climate is mild and that our oranges taste better and ripen a month earlier than oranges in the Southland. We wanted to outdo LA, but the cultural importance of life in California had shifted from the north to the south.
“I did not find out how successful planting with a view for train travellers was. I never saw another notice of Orange Day. I see eucalyptus along train tracks and around stations. Eucalyptus look mysterious and sensual all year. Orange trees only attract when oranges are on them.
“Starting at the end of the 1800s a lot of orange trees were planted in Fair Oaks and Orangevale. In 1930 the Chamber of Commerce planned an Orange and Flower Festival. One occurred in 1931.
“That was when camellias were beginning their run to prestige and popularity. I think between our fame for our trees and the passion of camellia lovers, there wasn’t room for oranges to be glorified.”
“But we still have Capitol Park,” he said.
“Yes.”
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