A few trucks and cars lined the drive and I wondered...could it be picking time? I sauntered up the drive and yes, lo and behold, there was a small group plucking grapes from bursting vines. One of the pickers was the owner, Pam Stotz. She gave me permission to photograph and so I did.
I heard it through the grapvine...
There is something so magical about the twisting, winding grape vine that looks like an ancient man barely able to wait for that first sip of the elixir of gods.
"What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes."
~Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Pam Stotz pointed out to me rows of grapes called Leon. I was amazed at how plump and full each cluster of grapes was. The little purple spheres were tightly packed as if held by an unseen hand.
I'm so very glad I went for a walk this morning.