Green Oranges

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Although it was quiet last night, I was restless, my mind going back to the zocalo and the people spending the night there. Maybe in the next couple of days I'll try to stay after dark, at least. This morning my feet were in no mood to cover more ground, so I puttered around the yard, disicovering an avacado tree full of fruit and a big yellow-spotted green orb-weaving spider with hairy leg joints that made it look like it was wearing knee pads. Come high noon, though, I had to get out. Part of this reatlessness is just having Oaxaca de Juarez outside the window. No time to waste.
So I headed north to scout out the cemetary of San Filipe de Agua. Its small, and unfortunately the gate was locked. The neighborhood is rather upscale. Beautiful walls of adobe and/or stone. Oaxaca is also known as "The Enerald City" because of the color of the rock that many of the bigger buildings, churches and the like, and many retaining walls are constructed from. The green of the rock ranges from minty greys to deep pistacios and warm ochers. But quite subtle.
At one point off in the distance I could hear a woman calling "Sweet, fresh oranges! Hand picked today and delivered right to your door. Come get your oranges!". A old pickup truck came creeping up the street, stopping at each door. I have been lusting after some OJ, so found fortune smiling on me until I looked into the bed of the truck. It was full of bright green spheres. Fifty cents for a dozen. I opened my pack and filled it up, doubtfully. Oh well. A few blocks further on I found a mole chocolate shop, that also roasts coffee beans. I chose some moderatly small dark chocolate slabs over the mini-hearts. The texture is slightly granular, but melts quickly and lingers on the tongue. Not too sweet, and slightly cinnamon. I'm in trouble. That shop is only a five minute walk from the house. And, as the neighbor lady predicted, the climb is getting easier. Zig-zagging helps.
Once atop the hill, I sliced open a couple of those green globes to squeeze out the most incredible juice I've ever tasted. Awesome. Baffled. "Don't judge an orange not orange."
Friday night and the city is hopping. Burning leaves somewhere and a crispness that is completely autumnal. I'm going to bed early so that I can get up early, and head to the zocalo.

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