Citrus cleaner

The lime tree potted in my front yard has started to bare fruit. I picked a ripe lime and carried it to my kitchen for squeezing into a soup. On the way I scratched the rind with my thumb and delighted at its bright, sunny aroma.

Later in the day I was cleaning my kitchen with a citrus cleanser. It smelled vaguely like the lime’s rind. I decided to compare the odors of these two citrus items and plunked both of them down on the kitchen table. I settled in for a good sniff.

The lime rind was exactly as before, except now a little warmer, more like noon than 7 am. It’s dewey freshness was gone, but the bright zinginess that aims straight for the sinuses remained intact. It had also sweetened a tad.

The citrus cleaner carried a sweet top note, more of a mixture of orange and lime syrup. Breathing in deeper, I discovered an oily underbelly: an orange slurpee poured onto hot asphalt. In other words, the label describing the product as “all natural citrus” was only telling a slice of the whole story about what’s inside.