Orange tree

I love oranges. I love peeling and separating them and the exciting shot of aromatic zest plus the explosion of sweet citrus in my mouth. I don’t know why I’m telling you that.

Looking out of the windows on my side of our bedroom, there, centre stage, is an orange tree. It’s huge and stands tall next to the river. Wake at night, look out and you’re in for a surprise. Out there, uplit by the all-night lights of the old folks home is a mysterious orange glow.

Sadly no oranges. It’s an orange.... tree, not an orange tree.