August MacGregor

Celebrating Sensuality. Intended for mature audiences, 18 and over

Oranges in Winter

5 Comments

oranges, by Danilo (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Danilo (Flickr, Creative Commons)

Bernice told her husband, Ryan, that when she was growing up, one of the few pleasures of winter were oranges. They didn’t have a lot of money, so there were few toys under the Christmas tree. But they made do with what they had, and her brothers and sisters played with the toys rather than being bored of them a week after receiving them.

Her dad always brought home a bag of oranges in January. Something to brighten the bleak winter days, after the sound of Christmas carols had died down. The bright orange balls would be like a tropical vacation. One fruit for each person, so there was no need to share. Of course, they still argued over who got the bigger fruit.

But, in the end, they were happy to have them. Happy to slowly rip off the thick peel. Happy to smell the aroma of brilliant warmth. Happy to hold up the orange segments to the light and see the fascinating structure of the little pods of juice as they glowed with the light behind them.

When their teeth sunk into those segments and they tasted the juice, their imaginations rushed to a tropical beach. This was joy. A gorgeous day in January, a break from the chill.

Of course, they were thrilled when snow arrived, to spend days sledding, throwing snowballs, and building snowmen. That was also a joy — but much different than how the oranges brought them to somewhere else.

So when Ryan brought home a bag of oranges in January, Bernice’s eyes teared up as she embraced him and whispered, “Thank you.”

*****

The photo above is used under the non-commercial Creative Commons license. Click on image to jump to photographer’s Flickr page.

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Author: augustmacgregor

I'm a writer of erotica and romantic fiction.

5 thoughts on “Oranges in Winter

  1. The sentiment of oranges feels exactly right and I never had thought of oranges in winter. What a sweet gesture to buy her oranges.
    I live in orange country. Our home is a “Sunkist”. Funny, I watched an episode from a British series set in ? later 1800’s and these women received oranges. They formally sat at a table with plate fork and knife, spoke as to how they were to eat it. One woman said she pokes a whole and sucks on it ( seems like a tiresome and very strenuous way to eat it ), another didn’t know and I think the other one in charge was going to peel and then slice and eat. The talk alone made the one in charge order them all to their rooms to eat their oranges in private. Then they showed the women eating it and making the sounds that couldn’t be heard at the table. : )

    Liked by 1 person

    • That sounds like a very funny episode! To make the women leave the table and have to eat in private! Growing up, we did have an orange now and then in winter — and I remember how wonderful they smelled and tasted. The story was based a little on that memory. But I bet where you live, you get tasty oranges all year round!

      Like

      • Well, truth is, most of the time if you’re lucky, you can. The sweetness of oranges ripened on a mature tree under the right conditions is heavenly. As a kid, I once stood under an orange tree and ate until I couldn’t eat another one because the sweetness was explosive and unworldly and the juiciness was it’s highest expression of being alive and full. I was a glutton. : )

        Liked by 1 person

      • That’s a beautifully described memory! And what a wonderful temptation to be a glutton 🙂

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      • Thank you. There’s nothing like tree ripened fruit. : )

        Liked by 1 person

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