By the time this lands in your inbox, we will have just one thing left to harvest for our winery: Lizzy James Old Vine Zinfandel for port. Everything else has been brought into the winery. This harvest season has definitely been early, but otherwise has followed the typical patterns – 4 a.m. starts, long days on the crush pad, and no two days alike.
Kyle calls it the most stressful stretch of his year.
Not because of the grit of it—he’s used to that. It’s the weight of getting it right. Vineyard walks for fruit tasting, sugar testing, closely watching the weather, and chasing a target that can shift by the hour. The whole year’s work comes down to a decision made at the last moment.
I’ll admit it’s easier for me to find the grace in it from where I stand.
I’m back into my morning vineyard walks. They had taken a backseat to tending to the garden for a while, and I’ve missed them. My walks are a bit different from Kyle’s – meant for exercise in the quiet of the morning rather than decision-making. But my silly smartwatch nags at me about my walking pace. I keep trying to ignore it.
This time of year, the vineyard smells like harvest. There’s fruit to taste, and I am drawn to take it all in. The pace doesn’t match my normal stride, but it’s the perfect pace for the season.
Sometimes I can finish my walk and realize I didn‘t pay any attention to my surroundings. I missed the moment to be awed by how a vine grows. How it becomes wine. How there is joy in seeing the full circle, from grape to the glass.
So, this week, my watch will stay on the charger until after my walk.
