The Long Arc

I wrote this piece a few weeks ago, before the recent escalation of violence in parts of Mexico. It feels important to acknowledge that many communities there are experiencing profound loss and instability right now. Behind the headlines are families, farmers, and children simply trying to live their lives. We hold them in our thoughts and hope for greater safety and peace in places that grow so much of the food we share. While this blog focuses on climate and our orchard, the broader realities shaping agriculture — including instability beyond our borders — are part of the landscape we all navigate.

The climate is changing. Not in theory — but in our orchard, under our boots, and in the daily decisions we make about avocados.

A few years ago Ventura County’s USDA map shifted us from Zone 9 to Zone 10. That sounds technical, but what it means is simple: our nights are warmer than they used to be. This wasn’t the result of a single soft winter. It reflects decades of incremental warming. The pattern isn’t dramatic day-to-day. It’s a long arc.

On the ranch, that arc shows up after sunset. When I was a child, frost meant action. Wind machines thumped before dawn. Smudge pots glowed between the rows. Cold air was something we battled. Protecting tender growth was a winter ritual.

Last week on social we posted a video of our up valley neighbor’s wind machines battling the cold predawn, check it out!

Now? We grow bananas and mangos in the family orchard — something my great-great-grandparents would have found improbable, if not impossible. Our fears have shifted. Instead of bracing for freeze, we brace for heat. When the next heat wave comes — not if, but when — we will execute the maneuvers we’ve learned. Adaptation is defense.

But climate is only one piece of the avocado story. Every week I receive production updates and market reports. Avocados are no longer a regional fruit; they are a global commodity. The fruit we harvest in coastal California competes with fruit grown in Mexico, Peru, Colombia, Spain, Israel, and beyond. Weather patterns in Michoacán or rainfall in the Andes ripple all the way to our local packing house sheets.

Most consumers don’t realize how interconnected it all is. A late rainy season in Mexico. A surge of summer volume from Peru. European buyers paying a premium when Mediterranean crops tighten. Holiday demand in the United States — especially around the Super Bowl — that can empty coolers almost overnight. Mexican pickers take Easter week off and suddenly supply dips. Timing matters.

According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, over 90% of the avocados consumed in the United States are imported from Mexico. Mexico is both the birthplace of the avocado and the global juggernaut of production. They have already exported more than 403 million pounds into the United States this year!

Closer to home, California is projected to harvest approximately 310 million pounds of Hass and about 30 million pounds of all other varieties in 2026. (Mostly Lamb and GEMs which we can send to you if you are curious). Roughly 80% of California fruit will be sold in the western states.

So I read the reports. I watch global shipments. I consider oil content, projected volume, and regional demand. Some days it feels analytical and precise. Other days it feels like consulting a magic eight ball.

And then I walk the orchard. Because spreadsheets don’t grow fruit — trees do.

In a few weeks, we’ll bring in a team to selectively remove fruit from our youngest trees. That may sound counterintuitive. Why take fruit off? Because we are not farming for this month. We are farming for decades. By reducing the load, we allow those trees to build roots, strengthen branches, and establish structure. We are investing in longevity.

The older blocks require a different kind of judgment. When to harvest becomes part science, part economics, and part intuition. We balance tree health, market supply, fruit maturity, and the simple question: what is right for this orchard, right now?

The climate is changing. The maps are shifting. The market is global.

But our role remains steady: steward the trees, adapt thoughtfully, and build for the long haul. And keep learning.