oranges and avocados
Growing up, first in Nebraska, then in southern California, my strongest closely-held
recollections are earth memories. Birthday parties and picnics have faded away.
Shopping trips and Saturday afternoon movies are no longer recalled. But, etched in strong detail are the moments when I came to know the truths one can only learn from nature.
Now, many years later, I live in a small town located off the beaten path, in an
agricultural valley nestled between Los Angeles and Ventura, California. The
scent of orange and lemon blossoms join cilantro and other row crops that ride
the breeze to announce their zesty selves.
Behind our group of homes is Sespe Creek, a waterway that meanders from winter’s
snow-capped mountains toward the ocean. A typical southwest stream, it is trickling and dryish in summer. On rare occasion it becomes a roaring waterway carrying logs and boulders toward the Pacific.