A Surprise in our Backyard

When we first moved into our home, it was the middle of July and blazing hot. In the corner of our tiny backyard stood a single fruit tree, its branches heavy with small, green fruit. We didn’t think twice. “It’s a lime tree,” we assumed. The fruit looked like limes, so that must be what it was. Naturally, we sliced one open to test our theory and were met with the sourest, most disappointing “lime” we had ever tasted. We joked that it might just be ornamental because no one should eat that.

Months passed, and we had a neighbor over for dinner. As we chatted, she could see our tree from from her place at the table and said, “Your tree has THE BEST oranges—they’re amazing.” Oranges?

Sure enough, December rolled around and those pitiful “limes” transformed into the sweetest, juiciest oranges we’d ever tasted. Practically seedless, bright, and bursting with flavor. It was like discovering hidden treasure in your own backyard.

We quickly realized this single tree produces far more fruit than we could eat ourselves. We bought a juicer and started making fresh-squeezed orange juice by the pitcher. The house would fill with that bright citrus smell—like sunshine in the air. Even after our juicing marathons, we still had grocery sacks full of oranges to share with friends and neighbors. These days, we notice a few subtle hints from folks nearby when picking season rolls around—gentle reminders that they’re still fans of our backyard bounty.

Harvesting is half the fun. I climb up and fill 3 or 4 bags at a time, feeling like a kid in a citrus jungle. And just when the fruit is gone, the blooms start to open in early February. The entire neighborhood gets swept up in the fragrance—fresh, floral, and full of promise. It’s nature’s little whisper that something good is coming.

And in the thick of summer, when the sun beats down on everything, the broad canopy of that tree provides a patch of shade that feels like a small miracle in the desert. It turns out the tree is a gift in every season—welcomed for its shade in the summer and its fruit in the winter.

What started as a confusing, sour mystery has become an added blessing. Every season with the tree brings something new: surprise, abundance, community, and the kind of joy you don’t have to buy—just climb a little and share.