Wine is definitely communicating with you when all you can think about is a vineyard.  Not drinking wine, or even in a tasting or with some tasting group talking about AVA’s and producers, or what you get from the wine.  Just a vineyard.  And walking it.  One row then the next, then all over again.  Looking through all the pictures on this most recent phone, and well more than half are of vineyards, and if not half then a significant population.

If I were stopped from ever again drinking wine, right now, but I could still walk my vineyards and hold clusters just days before they’re pulled, I’d more than be okay.  It’s the wine, but it’s not.  It’s that rock bed, that tree next to the Merlot block, the view from the 115 Pinot block, Russian River.  Maybe my book’s about the vineyard, thoughts that come from the steps in the rows.  I don’t know, but where I am my thoughts are there, looking at one varietal or another.