![]() ![]() I could feel the tree and its fruit generate a chain of conversation as each person was drawn to the curiousness of these creature-like green balls lying on the ground. That second day, one year ago, a young woman noticed me gathering the green fruit and asked me about them just as I had asked passersby the day before. I fell in love with it and what a gift to find something that gave that sense of discovery and yet had always been so close to home. I immediately looked it up of course, and the next day I went back to pick up some more of the Osage Oranges (which of course are not oranges) because the wind was rising and soon they would fall, be eaten by squirrels, decompose, and also because someone had asked me where the tree was located in the Park and I wanted to locate it for them-in fact it is a small grove of Osage Trees right along the Western edge of the Park near 68th street and because the tree, its fruit, and its story intrigued me. Someone explained to me that it was an Osage Orange from the Osage Tree. ![]() A year ago today, out for an afternoon walk in Central Park, I came upon a few interestingly textured round hard green fruit along a path I often take. ![]()
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