Each long Melbourne winter I delight in seeing the fruit on our orange tree glow in the back yard as though lit from within. In the looming dusk it’s as if the tree’s stored sunlight is sending a promising message to the waning day: despite the night, tomorrow will come.
As the rest of our garden’s deciduous species become skeletal, the leaves of the contrarian Mediterranean sweet navel orange tree remain green and glossy, and its fruit swells and ripens until, at the winter solstice, they reach their sweet delicious peak.