There are many ways to get around this. Some involve prying part of the orange peel off with a sharp object like the tip of a knife or fork until there is just enough room to stick a finger in between peel and fruit. But be careful not to stick your finger into the fruit directly or you will get a squirt of acid juice straight in the face! Ouch! Instead, it’s important to skim the layer of fluffy white gently, but firmly enough to remove the peel. It makes me really happy when I manage to keep the whole peel in one piece like a spiral.

            What can I write about an orange? It’s spectacular and somehow banal. The more I dig into oranges, the more I realize that there are equally as many oranges as apples. They are sensual in a way that a strawberry cannot top. For example, unpeeling an orange to reveal this juicy and luscious interior is totally captivating. While drawing these fruit they reminded me of jewels like some luxury object you would find at a jewelry store. I realized how fantastically beautiful this fruit is. Layers upon layers of stratified juiciness that creates an almost luminescent feel. Then there are these white veins that surround each piece as if holding it together. It looks like it’s just on the edge of bursting! And I haven’t even mentioned the pieces, individual, handleable and perfect for consumption. Oranges are magnificent and I honestly never noticed quite how much until now.

            I feel very lucky for the oranges when they arrive in all their glory. They come to me sent from very far away in the deepest and darkest part of winter. Oranges arrive in that time when all the holiday cheer has passed and what is left is absolute stillness and a chill that gets straight to your bones. There is not much color this time of year, but a genuine need to hibernate and cuddle. In the midst of this dark and weary time, these gems of vitamin C are carried from Florida or California or India (as it turns out) to arrive on my cold counter. They literally carry the warm air in their stride and burst with fantasies of lush and vibrant scenes. Like balls of transported sunshine…

            The orange nourishes me as much as it inspires in the cold months. It is a necessary resource for essential vitamins during an otherwise lacking time of year. If I were to follow the seasons exactly and only eat regional seasonal produce, these months would only include root vegetables, cabbages, meat and dried fruit and grain. Yes, I could manage well enough, but I would miss out on this colorful richness and joy. Oranges are little balls of happiness that bring my body and spirit to an elevated plane.

            That said, I have no personal experience stories with oranges since they have always travelled far and wide to arrive in my grateful tummy. And maybe that in itself is the story, one of global trade and cultivation on giant plantations far away manned by hard working individuals who travel even further to spend months and grueling hours for little pay to make sure the oranges make it off the tree in the first place. Or maybe the story is of a tree that, like the apple or pear, needs to be grafted to bear edible and delicious fruit. And how this is how there are so many different cross-bred varietals to create an even easier to peel tangelo or perfectly sliced clementine or a brightly colored Cara Cara.

            These are ultimately embodiments between the coexistence and symbiosis between humanity and nature to evolve faster and feed the endlessly growing human population. Oranges, like so many other fruit, grow in giant monocultures thousands of miles away from me where the profit margins are so small and the risks related to climate and exploitative interactions speak to an unjust world. The orange exists as both something taken for granted, something magical and mysterious, and a true representative of the global food system.