Two women, Baghdad and New England, pose for a picture in front of an orange tree, which is not yet bearing fruit. It must be late summer. Orange trees are abundant in this garden, their thick shiny leaves reflecting the noon sun.
Baghdad holds a leaf behind her hand, wishing its fragrance to permeate the years to come of her new American relation.
On this day only a few dry leaves have fallen to the ground. More will accumulate by the end of the week, and will be swept into a pile over by the back wall.