January at Luretik: Finding beauty in the slow months

After five autumn harvests and the lively intensity of the holiday season, winter seems less something to endure, and more something to welcome. A pause, a soft exhale, a time for simpler meals, quiet evenings, and for reflection - on all that is now behind us and all that quietly gathers on the horizon.

This season of rest, however brief, mirrors what is happening in the olive grove here at Luretík. Like the newly harvested oils, I have rested these past few weeks, but the cycle is already beginning again, even as the land appears still. The trees know this rhythm well. They have given up their fruit, they wait, and they gather strength for what comes next. There is wisdom in that kind of patience that I wish I could emulate.

After so much rain, we are now enjoying unseasonably warm temperatures and pruning and mowing have already begun. The grove is uncharacteristically green for this time of year, the hills washed clean and luminous—a harbinger of spring, when the Santa Ynez Valley reveals itself at its most breathtaking. Work continues, slower and more deliberate, guided by observation and care rather than urgency.

The new oils, full of complexity and character, are now ready for bottling, and we look forward to sharing them with you. This past harvest season asked a great deal of us. It began with excessive November heat (long days harvesting in 86-degree temperatures), then almost as abruptly, came two weeks of rain, followed by cooler days, (harvesting in 60-degree weather under heavy skies). Such a season of sharp contrasts, demanded flexibility, endurance, and trust in the process. But we couldn’t be happier with the outcomes. Each oil carries the imprint of this memorable harvest—its challenges, its surprises, and its moments of grace. The oils are not static products; they are living expressions of a specific olive variety, geographic place, and moment in time; the conditions that shape them in subtle ways. To honor that process means carving out time for rest, both for the grove and for ourselves and then beginning anew.

At the outset of a New Year, we remain deeply grateful—for the land, for the labor, and for the community that follows along, season after season. The next cycle is already unfolding beneath the surface, and when spring arrives, renewed and generous, we will be ready.