Step into the vineyard in the summer months and a story of great growth and gradual fruition gently unfolds. The last time I inspected the vines this year's fruit had barely grown bigger than a pin-head per grape.
What a difference a month makes in the heat of a California July. Super-fogged-in mornings and surprisingly crisp evenings and overnights maintain our reputation in these parts for producing cool climate wines.
Bolstered by his latest gold medal win, the garagiste is gearing up for peak growth period as the grapes approach next month's eventual verasion (reddening) and then the final push of late summer ripening.
Last year's wine is likely to be the best yet, barrel tasting revealing an intensity we haven't seen in the past few vintages, a black stallion of a Syrah ready to charge right out of the barrel and into the bottling process next Spring.
It's been a week since my return from the old haunts of the UK and to mark the occasion, this mellow, sunny Sunday afternoon was spent dead-heading roses on the hillside and dousing the old dog with a shampoo and hose spray and a good brushing off. The smell of the earth in the afternoon heat is distinctive to Northern California. One of my favorite aspects of being home.
Shopped the Saturday afternoon Farmer's Market for tiny baby new potatoes and chunky green beans, wild rocket and berries. This morning's hike up in the hills by the water tower reminded me to take a basket or two on the same trail in a week or so, wild blackberries are a'ripening.
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