“A puddle on the road isn’t enough. Not in this heat.” — What a potter from Central Otago has been putting in her garden for 15 years so the bees still come.

What most people don’t know: the bees are doing far worse than you think — and one of the main reasons has nothing to do with sprays. A potter from Roxburgh in Central Otago worked that out fifteen years ago. Every summer since, she puts the same handmade bowls into her flower beds.

Roxburgh, Central Otago, October 2026. When did you last hear real buzzing in summer? Not somewhere far off — but that full, steady hum that used to just be there. In every garden. Every hot afternoon. Most people don’t notice it’s gone until it’s been gone for a while.

The bees are struggling. Most people know that much. What most don’t know: sprays and mites aren’t the only problem. In summer, bees also simply die of thirst — and it happens far more often than anyone thinks.

On very hot days, bees stop looking for nectar altogether — they look only for water. Everywhere. In gutters. On hot tarseal. In road puddles full of motor oil and tyre dirt. The clean sources — creek edges, dewy grass, moisture on morning leaves — are the first to dry up in a dry summer.

Jocelyn Galloway understood this long before anyone wrote about it.

“He wanted to give me something that wouldn’t wilt”

Everyone in Roxburgh calls her Joss. She’s been a potter for fifteen years — the real kind, with her own studio out the back, a wheel, a kiln, twenty glaze jars on the shelf, every colour mixed by hand. Her first proper pottery class was a birthday present from her husband Graeme. He wanted to give her something that wouldn’t wilt. She never stopped.

The mānuka flower became her signature early — the shape she kept coming back to. Open, simple, with a deep hollow in the centre. “The mānuka came out of my hands before I even thought about it,” she says. “I glazed it, put it in the kiln, took it out — and thought: that’s the shape. That’s the one.”

From the second year on, she gave one back: every birthday, a handmade blossom bowl for Graeme. After fifteen years, more than a dozen of them stood in the garden — among lavender, wild thyme and lupins. No two alike.

Graeme is a beekeeper — has been for thirty-five years. Five hives, then eight, then twelve. One summer, in a long hot dry spell, he poured water into one of Joss’s bowls. A beekeeper’s instinct. No big plan.

The next morning, three bees were drinking from it.

What followed was fifteen years of watching — summer after summer, bowl after bowl. Hundreds of pieces. Always getting better. Never sold — always given away.

“A bee drinks differently from a bird. Sounds obvious. It wasn’t, for me.”

Joss takes two bowls off the shelf — an early flat one and a newer, deeper one with a rim that curves slightly inwards. “The first ones were wrong,” she says plainly. “Too flat, too smooth. The bees tried to land and slipped. Or they didn’t even try.”

She puts the old bowl back. “A bee wants an edge. She wants to land without falling into the water. And she wants the water at exactly the depth where she can stand.”

They look like blossoms. The bees can’t tell the difference — and that’s the point.

The bowls sit right in the flower bed — on metal stakes pushed straight into the soil, at the same height as the real blossoms, in the shade of the plants around them. No dish baking on a hot concrete patio. No pond to dig.

Bees find their way by flower shapes. An open, round ceramic blossom among real plants doesn’t look strange to them — it’s a signal. There’s water here. It’s safe.

“I fill them every morning,” Joss says. “With the watering can I’m already holding. Ten seconds. Then I watch who turns up.”

• A shape from 15 years of watching — rim depth, opening and angle aren’t just for looks. They’re made for how bees really behave. Bees land safely, without slipping or drowning.
• Handmade ceramic — every bowl shaped, glazed and fired by hand. No two the same. A slightly rougher glaze on the rim gives bees grip.
• The shade advantage — among the plants, water dries up far slower than in open dishes on hot paving. It stays fresh even on the hottest summer days.
• Clean water, quickly refilled — no road puddle, no oil, no sprays. Ten seconds with a watering can is all it takes.
• A blossom shape bees understand — bees head for open, round shapes. To them the bowls look like a place to land, not a strange object.
• 4-piece set in mixed colours — pink, orange, purple, pale yellow. Like a real patch of flowers — lovely for bees and people. Works in beds, pots and on the deck.

“In the cooler months I make pots. In summer I belong to the garden.”

Joss works the wheel in autumn and winter — when the garden is resting and the studio is warm from the wood burner. In summer she’s outside: beds, bees, watching. She doesn’t touch the wheel.

“Winter is my time,” she says. “It’s quiet. In my head I’m already in next summer — what I want to change, which glaze I want to try. I make myself a cuppa and get started.”

This batch is what she made this year. Fired, glazed, done. When these are gone, new ones come in autumn at the earliest. Joss makes them when she makes them — no schedule, no promises.

Her daughter Kate saw how people reacted at last summer’s A&P show — always the same question: “Where can I buy these?” She quietly set up an online shop. “Mum, this year’s batch doesn’t all get given away.” Joss didn’t argue.

What customers are saying

“Our garden hums again. I wish the same for yours.”

Fifteen years of watching. Hundreds of bowls. Each one a little better than the last.

“I know how a bee lands now,” Joss says. “I know which depth works and which doesn’t. I know when the water’s too cold and when the shade is right.” She looks out at the flower bed. “Sounds like nothing much. But once you know it, you can’t forget it.”

Four bowls. One flower bed. Ten seconds every morning.

The set includes 4 handmade ceramic blossom bowls on metal stakes in mixed colours (pink, orange, purple, pale yellow). For garden beds, pots and decks. Free shipping NZ-wide. Delivery in 5–8 working days.