After 6.3-something run on treadmill, shooting quick video, and having a healthy post-speedwork snack, breakfast I guess, break, I’m in writing mode, eager for the day to challenge me. Today, is so peculiar in its gentle and generous fluidity, in what it’s given me not only in terms of time table, but everything— sight and promise, the poetry of getting the babies out the door and into car completely sans problème. I couldn’t understand it entirely, not then really, but now I see the entire day and I’m like a famished lion in the field with all those herds at my 12. All I have to do is leap, run…
Wine country and the wine life is about dreams and visions ceasing in their vision stage and sense and becoming something you live. Wine life to me deals little with actual wine. Health of the vine should translate to those caring for them, to winemaking, winemakers, people selling… and I’m not just talking about minimizing consumption of wine but being a steward of self. Caring for your body and thoughts, what you do with your time and where you create and what opportunities you draw for your self.
Time with my babies this morning making me more reflective about where I’m going, and the accentuation this morning was loud, voluminous and enveloping. Now going back and forth sipping between some cinnamon dolce coffee I bought last night and a bottle of sparkling berry water I just bought on Hopper, at the same store I stop after gym treadmill sessions. I feel alive this morning, healthy, so free having no papers to rush-grade and encouraged by everything I’ve so far done ce jour.
Wine is the consequence of care, and love. For the soil, the vines, the clusters once present, monitoring the health of the yeasts and how they progress through their fermentation feed, the wine through aging and once bottled how that glass is stored, kept, and when open how treated. Wine is a reward, good wine anyway, a result of close attention and as I said, love.
Today. I love the day and my story more than I ever have.