In Southern California, December brings more than just holiday lights - it brings the vibrant colors of ripening citrus. This cherished tradition sees neighbors sharing bags of oranges and lemons, coworkers bringing surplus fruit to the office, and families incorporating these bright orbs into everything from lunch boxes to cocktail garnishes.
For many Southern Californians, including myself, citrus trees carry deep personal and historical significance. My grandfathers worked in the orange groves - one as a teenage naranjero in 1920s Anaheim, the other as a bracero in the 1950s. Those same lands later transformed into factories and luxury condos, marking the evolution of our region.
Today, I nurture 11 citrus trees at my Santa Ana home, growing everything from common Bearss lemons to exotic Australian finger limes. The kumquat bush sparkles with orange jewels, while the calamansi offers its distinctive tart, peppery flavor. But this December brings a bittersweet note - I must remove two failing trees, including a beloved kishu that's been with us since we moved in.
The heartbreak runs deeper because I can't replace these trees. My property lies within a quarantine zone established by the California Department of Food and Agriculture to combat citrus greening disease. This devastating ailment has already claimed over 9,300 documented cases in Southern California, with Orange County bearing two-thirds of the burden. The quarantine restricts the sale and movement of citrus trees, even limiting the sharing of backyard fruit between neighbors.
This isn't the first crisis to threaten Southern California's citrus heritage. In the 1950s, "quick decline" disease (la tristeza) forced farmers to clear thousands of orchard acres. Yet the culture persisted, with suburban homeowners planting citrus trees in their yards - today, over half of California residences feature at least one citrus tree.
Watching my trees succumb to disease while others thrive serves as a poignant reminder: our relationship with citrus mirrors the delicate nature of the California Dream itself. Like many aspects of life in our region - from water resources to climate stability - nothing is guaranteed. The lesson? Cherish what we have in the moment, and savor every sweet, tart bite while we can.