From The Tree

We see many go by everyday. Some walk past without a glance. Others point to us as they look through the car window. Sometimes we get barked at as the squirmy squirrel climbs our structure to savor one of us for later.

I can see all that from where I sit in the tree. From my viewpoint, I have come to understand that we live in a world where cement and industrial fumes rise above the earth’s branches. As we strive to sustain our life cycle and be a staple to many, we rely on the hands of a few to help us reach beyond our quiet street corner to the coziness of a home.

It was a brisk afternoon when she walked up to the door. I watched as she rang the doorbell with a keen eye on us. It was obvious she was up to something. As she introduced herself to the homeowner, she pointed to us with eagerness and soon they both nodded in an agreement. Not an everyday scene, but perhaps this was our opportunity. A rare chance that someone will like us, bittersweet yet bountiful.

I watch as a pickup pulls in through the back gate. Loaded with crates and ladders, what catches my eye are these funky looking poles with pronged baskets at one end. People walk in with exclamations affirming our stature and abundance. I look to our friends in the tree across the yard. We have sat together in the sun and pouring rain for quite some time and it was a silent acknowledgment between ourselves that we knew what has been long anticipated was about to come.

I feel the fruit pickers wrestle through the tree branches, causing an earthquake sized shudder for us half pound oranges. Soon the harvester comes to me. With a snug tug, I plop into the fruit basket and jump into the bucket with about forty other oranges. As the tree becomes bare green I hear a lot of laughter and friendly chatter surround the home. From neighbors stopping by to harvesters exchanging small talk, I get the sense that everyone is together this morning not just for us, but for each other.

Everyone takes the opportunity to harvest us, Meyer lemons. Always a hot commodity. I’ve learned that no matter where we go, people will praise us for our versatility. We are welcomed with open arms and made into squares that are never turned down. We are brought to family gatherings and neighbors’ doorsteps, but this morning we are in some place new.

A cold and dim storage room with hundreds of oranges. A farmer walks in carrying a yellow tub with tangerines. They tell us they were from last week’s harvest. Some of them got picked up at the farm stand while they will wait for volunteers to take them home. I wonder what our destination will be.

She takes us into her car and drives through the streets of downtown. I see students bustling to class and city workers taking a break in the warm sun. We pull into a parking lot, go through several doors and a flight of stairs before she sets us down in a spacious room. I hear her talk to the chef who comments on how this is the busy hour where their café members come through. Then he picks me up, smells my fresh scent, and sets me back down exclaiming, “these are the good ones”- an assuring sign that this is the place I’m meant to be.