We are staying in Palm Springs for a few days. The place where we are staying has a lovely pool and an even lovelier orange tree. Below the tree is sumptuous grass. I thought, ‘What a fabulous place to lay out my mat and practice some yoga.’ As I made myself comfortable in easy pose, the warm air, fragrant with overripe oranges played around me. Breathe in. Breathe out. Bliss.
And then it happened. The smell of the overripe oranges should have been the first clue. The leaves rustling in the breeze, the second. Bonk. My yoga reverie broken by a plump rogue orange with perfect aim.
In retrospect, I realize I wouldn’t practice yoga under an apple tree laden with ripe fruit, why would an orange tree be any different? I guess this rainforest girl has a few things to learn about the desert.