Enveloped by the smell of wafting citrus and sugar, I’m overcome with a vision of plump, bright yellow lemons hanging from a branches and threatening to plunge into the coast of the Mediterranean. Years ago, while studying in Florence, I spent weekends and holidays gallivanting across Italy, and vacationed on the Amalfi coast for a long weekend in the spring. Vast sparkling blue waters stretched beyond the rocky coasts and slender winding streets bustled with merchants and tourists. Sprinkled in between storefronts and around every corner nestled small lemon trees, their branches sagging under the weight of baseball-sized lemons. Each lemon’s rough, bumpy surface yielded easily to thick white pitch surrounding the sweet and tart fruit. The smell of fresh citrus always brings be back to this time.