Passion Flowers ...

[mAlice]

I can't begin to imagine how good an orange grove must smell. Now I'm thirsty for OJ. Mmmmmm

I don't recall how they smell, just how good the oranges were. They also grow some kind of giant lemon sort of fruit in the groves for cross pollination that was pretty tasty, too. Not as bitter as a regular lemon. I'd munch on these and the oranges for a few hours and come home all sticky and dirty, with a tummy ache.

 

[desertrat]

I can't begin to imagine how good an orange grove must smell. Now I'm thirsty for OJ. Mmmmmm

When the trees are blooming the entire area smells like orange blossums for miles around.

 

[jazz lady]

You, Miss, are one awesome lady! Thanks.

You're quite welcome. Gardening is one of my many passions and I know a lot about it. Maybe obsessively so.

 

[Nanny Pam]

I don't recall how they smell, just how good the oranges were. They also grow some kind of giant lemon sort of fruit in the groves for cross pollination that was pretty tasty, too. Not as bitter as a regular lemon. I'd munch on these and the oranges for a few hours and come home all sticky and dirty, with a tummy ache.

When the trees are blooming the entire area smells like orange blossums for miles around.

MMMmmmmmmmmmmmm
Thank you both, for the sensory stimulated orgasm.

 

[jazz lady]

When the trees are blooming the entire area smells like orange blossums for miles around.

I remember that smell going through Florida one spring. Absolutely heavenly!

The closest you'll get around here is the mock orange bush. I had one at my old house and the thing was a prolific bloomer in the spring. The aroma is close to that of the orange groves but on a much smaller scale.

 

[desertrat]

I remember that smell going through Florida one spring. Absolutely heavenly!

The closest you'll get around here is the mock orange bush. I had one at my old house and the thing was a prolific bloomer in the spring. The aroma is close to that of the orange groves but on a much smaller scale.

It could get quite overwhelming on a warm evening. Nothing, however, could compare to the smell of acres of cantelopes that were left unpicked for one reason or another and be working in the fields next to them in 110 degree heat. It was maybe 15 years before I could eat one. Love 'em now tho'