Someone tied a bag of oranges to my gate, so I leave honey

A bag of oranges was tied to my gate in Los Naranjos on Tuesday morning with no note and no name. Each orange was the size of a fist and sweeter than anything I have bought. I asked three neighbours and each said, not me, with a very suspicious smile. I now leave a jar of honey on the gate every Sunday. It is gone by Monday. I have not seen anyone. I have started to feel watched, in the best way.