This morning, upon leaving the local gym after an invigorating workout, I turned the corner and was struck by an intense smell of oranges. “Welcome to Valencia!” my nose exclaimed. After all, there are days that I am convinced that Valencia is to the citrus world what tortilla chips are to salsa and guacamole… a handy way to eat something delicious.

The orange trees here are in full fruit, and occasionally become projectiles when struck by cars, kicked by kids, or, perhaps, thrown from a passerby. Gentle reader, lest you think I live in a land of ruffians, I have yet to see an orange thrown here in this fair city. However, they are a hazard, and can even dent the cars parked beneath them when high winds sweep the city.

Today, a crew of workers was culling the fruit and the longer branches from the trees in my neighborhood. The smell was both intense and delicious!

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