The fields of trees, all blessed with oranges fly in the wind. I fill buckets and boxes with the fruit. I squeeze each fruit one by one, filling bottle after bottle with the holy juice. I fill my pantries and closets with jugs of nectar. My house blooms with a orange flair, the halls are decked with bottles on shelves, the attic of which once was a dusty place with many secrets and stories is now filled with hundreds of bottles of orange juice. I repurpose silos, and storehouses for the sole pur