March 1, 2011
Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit. I just love that this is the Year of the Rabbit!
Miss Morning Glory and I went out for a larcenous stroll the other night. We passed the new stick-like trees planted in the small orange grove at Bay Tree Lodge, throwing our heads back to enjoy the scent of the orange blossoms at their aromatic peak. I remember for the first couple of years we lived here that I thought it was the honeysuckle giving out the sweet, pungent aroma. I was wrong about that in a rather spectacular way - because not only was the scent from the oranges blossoms, the other bloom was Confederate Jasmine. Shockingly wrong.
Miss Morning Glory is a veritable font of knowledge. She managed not to curl her lip with scorn when I pointed at a tall skinny tree that was loaded with dangerous-looking fruit with deadly projectile promise. I honestly don't think I could spot papaya even if it was marked with a large sign at the grocery store - so how could I be expected to identify it in the wilds of suburbia?
We visited an empty lot that had about half a dozen neglected orange trees, and liberated a handful of blossoms to stick in jelly jars on our respective kitchen windowsills. Another wild moment in the annals of Sewall's Point Confidential...