the citrus orchard

I was lucky enough to spend the first ten years of my life living what I believe was an idyllic childhood.
I grew up on a sheep station called "Mumblebone" in Warren in western New South Wales in the 70's - a time when children could run freely - dare I say 'wild' on the land with no fears. We had no fears of abductions, didn't even no what they were, we weren't afraid that the other workers on the property were going to molest us, and we weren't afraid of drowning or getting lost or bitten by snakes. There was no such thing as cotton wool parenting then, and we were all the better for it.

The Homestead on the property was rather large and had similarly large grounds which included beautiful rose gardens, perfectly manicured lawns and an orchard and vegetable gardens. They'd been established in the late 1800s I believe when homesteads were large, and properties had to be largely self sufficient. No such things as supermarkets back then after all. The homestead had to feed not only the large family, but the staff as well. To my memory the vegetable gardens were somewhat overgrown alot of the time whilst we lived on the property, as the owners were just three people, and no house staff. Times had changed.

However, those citrus continued to fruit every year without fail.

My sister and I would make regular visits to to the orchard to explore and play amongst the trees. I have such strong memories of the smell of the citrus and the grass, mixed with the familiar scent of lanolin from the stud rams who were housed just down the lane.

It's been 30 years since I've been in that orchard..... I often wonder how the place has changed.