A very dry year. The mountain flowers burned in July, there was little nectar. 9 kg a hive. We will sell less and keep the best for ourselves. The price will go up. I am sorry.
The bees did not complain. They never do. They simply leave.
Cold May. Sainfoin opens one week late. The bees sit at the door and look at me like I am guilty. I said: not my fault.
Papa says the best honey in the world is from sainfoin (esparcet). It is a pink flower in the high meadows above our house, and in the third week of May it turns the whole hillside the colour of a girl's scarf. The honey is almost white, thick, and tastes of almonds.
The trouble: the weather. If it rains for two days, the bees stay home, and the flower is over. Papa is looking at the sky every five minutes. I told him there is a weather site in Talas. He said: "The sky is faster."
