By Krishanali Merchant
In the backyard of my childhood home, stood an orange tree, which
seemed to be the only beacon of life in our small humble yard. This
tree with its twisted stem and branching crown was a friend in the
year, a source of comfort and pleasure
During spring, the tree would produce tiny white flowers that would
give it a beautiful appearance. Their aroma pervaded the atmosphere
and combined with the smell of the soil and plants in the garden.
Flowers swarmed with bees, which busily flapped their wings; the
sound was like the voice of life working. The blossoms soon turned
into little green balls, each containing the potential of the sweet
fruits that would be produced.
Summer was the tree’s best season. The green orbs matured and
became darker in color and more luminous, changing to an orange
hue. The branches laden with the fruits bent gracefully over their
load. During the hot and sultry afternoons I would spend my time in
the tree shade and the sunrays would dance on my body through the
leaves. I would stretch my hand and pick an orange, rub its surface,
which was smooth but had a little roughness to the palm of my hand
before slicing it to get the juicy and slightly sour pulp inside.
Autumn, on the other hand, was a different story as it had its own
kind of beauty. The trees were aflame with the richest of golden
hues, and the final remnants of oranges remained on the trees. The
wind became chilly, and the tree remained strong, unyielding, and
majestic, a symbol of the seasons and time. The leaves had fallen
and formed a carpet, a playground that was full of childhood
memories and adventures.
It was a tree that seemed to defy the harshness of the seasons, even
when it was stripped of its leaves and the branches were bare against
the cold sky, it was a reminder that life goes on. It was the promise
of a new beginning, of flowers and trees that would bear fruits
again. This orange tree was not just an ordinary tree to me; it was a
part of my childhood, a companion in the ever revolving cycle of
nature.
By Krishanali Merchant
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