The Smell Of Orange
What makes oranges so great?
Ever since I have memory I have known what an orange is. It always amazed me how a fruit could be so marvelous in the way it develops. As I grew older I started to do more research about them, and I came to a point of no return, I labeled them as my favorite fruit, and I decided that no fruit would challenge that. I am 19 years-old as of today, and I have yet to find a fruit that gives my body the feeling of freedom, the same way the orange does.
Starting out as a tiny seed, the plant grows stronger with time, mainly during winter. After the tree is fully developed, it starts to bloom with a distinctive white flower, the Azahar, that later will morph into the fruit I adore, the orange. The plain sight of this redundancy of both color and fruit gives me a feeling of warmth, makes me think of the sun at dusk, and sets my soul ablaze with the undying flame of its vivid pigmentation.
After a couple seconds of admiration, I grab it, just to feel the rugged surface of this perfect imperfection. It matches the sand under the ocean, uneven, bumpy, yet smoothly rocky, following a pattern. The smell is not too strong, but I know better than to be fooled by the trapped scent bomb. Using my bare hands I peel the skin, and as I do, the wildly natural fragrance emerges, filling the room with a fresh aroma. This perfume takes me out of the room and teleports me to paradise, a place filled with birds and a waterfall washing away every sensation of loneliness as if the fruit itself was bathing me in glory and satisfaction.
If you listen carefully you can hear the juice wanting to come out of its thin cage, squirting, as you reveal the pale interior of this fascinating object. The time approaches, the time of graceful charity, the honor of tasting the queen of flavors herself, embodied into a small slice of life. As I bite into the soft cell, the juice is released into my mouth, creating harmony at a perfect tempo. A rollercoaster of flavor, taking me on an elaborated trip, passing through acid and sweetness at high speeds.
The rain of sour lusciousness takes over my mouth, from the very moment it touches my lips until the last drop drains down my throat. It achieves to give me a pleasant feeling, that of a child, every time I have the pleasure to consume one. No need to add water, no need for extra sugar, it is perfect just as it is. Whether you eat it or make it into juice, you do not require anything extra, just the fruit.
The ecstasy of conclusion, an incomparable feeling of freedom, equivalent to an adrenaline rush, the moment before you fall from a high place knowing that you will be safe. All of these emotions confined inside of me liberated, leaving me with nothing but a smile in my face and the memories of how my mother would prepare orange juice for me in the morning, right before I took off to school. I go back to being a kid, I go back to be free of worries, I get to see inside of my mind for a couple of seconds that seem like a lovely eternity of calm and silence. There are simply not enough words to describe how a simple fruit can make me experience such strong emotions.
