The Garden (“Peeling Oranges” Series)

One cold morning, I wait for the American neighbors next door, who share a cab with me to school.

A smoky mist rises up from their host mother’s garden, the night’s frost melting and crystalizing again in the air.  It curls around laundry polls and hovers above the lemon trees, full of pocked yellow bulbs even in winter.  The sun slips over the back wall and into my eyes, blurring my vision until all I see is light.  The threads of mist, the fallen lemon half-buried in the soil, the bird’s feather that floats to the ground—all of it is light.

I wonder if this is what Adam saw when God walked in the Garden.