I don’t think we plan on harvesting honeycombs anytime soon. We’ve done it in the past. It was fun and fine and good, but I don’t think I can commit to a lifetime of hosting anthrophila. David and I were in Texas a few months ago and were both stung by wasps so we don’t have much love for the vespidae world either. But I digress.
Part of the life of aspiring farmers or just people who love people who do cool things, had us traveling up north this week. I can’t fully explain just how small and how young this country is. It doesn’t take the six degrees of Kevin Bacon to connect to amazing humans. With only one degree of separation, we were able to wake up really early in the morning, drive all around the country and just schmooze with people.
We spent time in Klil, on Kibbutz Yiron and in Moshav Michmanim. We met Lilach, Alon and Roni. We sat on porches and stood in fields. We tasted apples and honey. A lot of apples and a lot of honey. We drank tea. And then we listened. I’ve come to love stories about people who are creators. There is a quiet pride in their words. There is sacrifice and deep thought and an authenticity that takes my breathe away. They have built businesses, some small and some large. And there have been moments of deep pain and moments of deep fulfillment. And I identify with their journeys, and I’m so grateful that we’re on our own journey.
We came back with a trunk loaded up with organic raw honey (and I can even explain just how unusual and amazing that is), with honeys from avocado blossoms or citrus blossoms and with plans to make apple cider. It was a good day, one that makes me excited for what’s in store for us.