Eating an Orange at Day’s End

Every aspect of the orange I just tenderly consumed was an ideal, a citric aspiration to greatness. Tissue thin membranes separating the sections; a sweetness rivaled by the heady lilacs growing in the Arboretum at UW-Madison where I would ride my bike simply for the joy of inhaling; tight skin hugging the jeweled interior; and such an anointing of my hands with its essence that this sacramental moment will not soon be forgotten.

It was a blessing to appreciate something for the fullness of its being…Presented in humble simplicity, yet, terrifically intricate as well. Each tiny pod of juice nestled against the other, fitting perfectly, contained in larger shapes that also fit together, and wrapped protectively in an outer layer that can’t help but give a hint of the glory it has within.

It was a blessing for my body to eat such a thing of beauty… And it is as though my entire body knows it. The contentment I feel is far deeper and more widespread than taste buds and stomach. My eyes are blessed by the saturated colors, my ears by the gentle squeak of segments pulling apart, my tongue by the fresh syrupy juice…
My soul knows it has been nourished, and at the end of this day, that leaves me quite thankful.

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