
Good morning!
A little while ago I was talking to Raquel, the beekeeper we work with, and she was telling me that the intense heat these days has set off some alarms.
The problem, she told me, is that when the thermometer rises too high, flowers produce less nectar. Simply put: the plant turns off the tap to avoid losing water.
And since nectar is, basically, the sweet "payment" that the flower gives to the bee in exchange for a visit, if there is less payment, there are fewer visits.
And if there are fewer visits, there is less pollination.
It seems like a mystery, but everything is connected, let me tell you how:

In the countryside, almost everything is about knowing how to continue without forcing things. Sometimes nature continues without interruption and sometimes it needs to stop and start again when the conditions are right. Bees do it perfectly.
On temperate days, they continue their work from flower to flower, and when the sun is really strong, they resume earlier in the morning or in the late afternoon, when the flower has that touch of rich nectar again.
It's like when you're cooking paella and you see it needs a little more broth. It's not about adding it wildly; it's about knowing when and how much so that the rice continues its course and reaches its perfect point. The same goes for flowers and bees.
Raquel also told me that this balance is a delicate dance. One year, she reminded me, they had a frost of ten below zero and couldn't harvest anything.
The flowers were damaged and there was no way. If it rains too much, the water literally washes the flowers and carries away pollen and nectar. If it's too dry, flowers emerge without any reward inside, and that's the fear now with this heat.
The weather needs to be in tune for the countryside to play its music. Neither a downpour nor a dry spell. A happy medium that allows the plant to produce its syrup and the bee to make its route without going empty-handed.

This, which seems like a tale, is then reflected in everything. In the setting of fruit trees, in the size of the harvest, in the flavor. That's why we get up early every day to check orders and harvest what you've ordered.
Harvesting on demand, from the plant to your home, ensures that what you receive has followed its natural rhythm and hasn't been sitting in warehouses. It's a way of working that is rarely done here in Spain, but we love it because it respects the timing of the countryside and defends a fair price for those of us who work it.
Behind it are the hands of farmers from all over Spain who cultivate as their grandparents did. Skill, patience, and that good stubbornness of someone who knows how to wait for the weather to cooperate.
When it's hot, we adjust schedules; when it rains too much, we cross our fingers and watch the flowers. And when nature agrees, the bees continue their journey as if nothing happened, the flowers offer their nectar again, and the whole mechanism starts up once more.
Sometimes the countryside takes its time, but it gets there. And when it does, it tastes glorious.
The heat will continue to be a challenge, but let's not lose our sense of humor: if bees can handle the summer, we can handle the rest of the week too 🐝.
Tomorrow, like every morning, we will check the orders and go out to harvest yours.
May the weather be good, may the flowers not lose their rhythm, and may you enjoy every bite.
Talk soon,

