I have visited a cool orange plantation. I had not planned to visit the orange farm on that day. I found it while passing through a small town. The sun was not excessively hot and the location looked open and peaceful. So I entered. I had a couple of people guide me through. Of course they were not doing a job of showing me, they were checking the site themselves and I followed. The first thing to hit me was the smell. It was orange everywhere though, like fresh Orange juice, but in the air. The trees were full of life. Their green leaves trembled lightly in the wind and the oranges looked heavy, as if they'd been growing for a hundred years. That's me over exaggerating so don't take it literally.

I remained still for a while, doing nothing at all, looking. It was good. Not funny or amusing, but good in a peaceful way. The trees were spaced well apart, and between the trees, the earth was neat. A man came to me and I found that he was one of the farmers. He talked slowly, and I listened to him. He told me how the roots of the trees hold the land to stay in place. I did not know that. I used to think that farms were only about food.

The way he talked made me think that he was not just growing oranges. He was proud of his job. That stayed with me. It made me look at the fruit differently. Since then, every time I eat an orange, I am reminded of the smell of that farm and the quiet. It hit something in me.