A couple of weeks ago, Ray and I expected a crew of Sunkist orange pickers to arrive at our grove early in the morning. Their foreman had come a week prior and asked us to be sure and water our trees between 12- 24 hours two days in advance of our scheduled picking day. Normally, these pickers come in August or early September, but this year it was edging towards October before they made time in their schedule for our little grove. When no one showed up by eight, Ray and I decided that perhaps we’d misunderstood and it would be the next day. We went about our business until around ten when we heard our dogs barking.

Looking down our gravel road, we saw dust flying as two passenger vans and several club-cab pickup trucks with long trailers headed in our direction. Once parked, men poured out of each vehicle like an army of ants headed for a picnic. After unloading long ladders and perching them in the trees on the south end of the grove, each man strapped on a large canvas shoulder bag and scaled to the top of the ladder. Filling their bags, they quickly descended, poured the ripe fruit into strategically placed 5’x5′ white boxes, and then ascended again. A forklift driver was poised and ready to scoop up each full box and load it on a waiting trailer. Up, down, and back around. Over and over and over.

Four hours later, with a 45-minute lunch break thrown in, all the trees were stripped of their ripe fruit, save for a dozen trees we had earmarked for our family. As quickly as the men arrived, they packed up and left. Our trees looked strangely bare in the aftermath. However, the new crop of little green oranges was plain to see. The cycle of life.

Ray and I were proud of our good crop of Valencias this year. Whenever you buy a bottle of Sunkist orange juice, please think of us.

Here are a few photos of the event: