Things You Believe In

Orange groves once populated much of central Florida, oranges likely outnumbering people. Today there are few groves; freezes and citrus canker destroying what strip malls leave. On highway 11 just twenty minutes west of where I live, a few small groves are hold outs. One of my simple pleasures is cruising down that road in spring with the truck windows open just smelling the orange blossoms.

A collector was in the studio a while back telling me Ponkans were his favorite orange, and like many things in my life I suddenly remembered what I forgot. I hadn't had a Ponkan in years. Fast forward to last week and I was driving down highway 11 to deliver some art, the oranges are in season, and hand lettered signs of rural growers advertised their fruit; navels, tangelos, ambersweet . . . ponkans. . . Ponkans!

I swiftly pulled into the dirt road. Lining the wood fence on homemade benches sat white plastic pails piled high with oranges. Ponkans! Six dollars a bucket - put the money in the honor box and no fruit switching said the neatly lettered sign.

As we stood there deciding how many buckets to buy, a car pulled in and parked in the drive next to the house. A slim white haired gentleman got out and walked over to us. “Are these your oranges – did you grow them here?” I asked. He did he said and introduced himself as Henry Dutton formerly from North Carolina. We talked oranges for awhile and when I complimented him on how nice his signs looked (I was a sign painter once), gazing around his grove he said “well you take a little pride in the things you believe in.”

Ponkan Orange
oil on linen 4" x 5"