“ We are all mortal until the first kiss and the second glass of wine. ”
~ Eduardo Galeano
The grapes are coming in. It is harvest time.
Tractors laden with crates of grapes are rumbling down chalky dirt tracks, arriving at wine sheds, tumbling hundreds and thousands of grape bunches: sweet balls of juice - into cold pressing vats.
In themselves just another crop of grapes. Another harvest. Another cycle completed - full circle.
But this grape harvest is special. These grapes have been with us all the way through this crazy & remarkable year of 2020.
Emerging from the hibernation of winter. Pruned and trimmed in the Spring. These new vine shoots overlooked the shock, the panic, the tidal wave that was Covid 19, as it set the world on fire. They sat in obedient silence when the world around them fell quiet and humanity was locked inside during March & April.
Firmly planted and rooted: life returned - the sap rose, vine shoots sprang up.
We may have been in lock down, trapped behind closed doors. But outside all was well.
The skies may have fallen silent, overhead the trail of aeroplane traffic grinding to a halt. Yet a vibrant triumphant dawn chorus echoed around the hills of Surrey. A melody of joyful bird song increased in volume as the sun faithfully rose & sunk over the horizon - day after day after day.
Inside we had long been counting the days. They rose at an alarming rate - from 14 to 28 to 50! Then we slowly stopped counting.
Earlier on our weeks were marked by Thursdays and a round of applause for the NHS.
We worked from home. We did school from our kitchen tables. We learnt to conduct our lives via ZOOM meetings and family calls. Our mood was optimistic and then depressed. We had hope but it often crashed after exposure to another deadly media headline.
Alongside Thursday nights applauded frontline workers, new heroes arose. Major Tom who raised millions for the NHS by walking laps around his garden and Joe Wicks - the young energetic and enthusiastic man who kept the nation exercising via the wonders of the internet.
The days turned into weeks. The weeks into months. The months carried us from late Winter, into early Spring.
The vines remained content and quiet - watched over by the sun, the moon & the stars. Weathering the glorious Easter temperatures and sunshine saturated Spring months.
When weeks later we ventured tentatively outside, the vines were there waiting for us. We began to walk the footpaths through and around our vineyards in the Surrey Hills. Those of us who could, relished the freedom to exercise in them; walking, running and jogging the chalky vineyard footpaths.
The cyclists returned. The dog walkers and the families. The hikers. The couples & the singles. Elderly and young. Fatter. Kinder. We emerged. Spotty teenagers. Gurgling babies. Quivering elderly knees. Couples holding hands, living apart and finally reunited, celebrating the comfort of touch & embracing arms.
As the earth warmed up and bluebells lay in a rich indigo carpet on ancient woodland floors, insect life stirred. Butterflies and bees emerged. Ladybirds and beetles. A humming army of bee traffic zipped through the pollen saturated air and fertilised the vine blossoms.
Flowers became buds along the vines. Fragile, tender sweet delicate buds - too young to survive severe frost.
For 2 or 3 dangerous nights in May, during the darkest deepest hours around 3am, temperatures plummeted below zero. Alarm bells were triggered and an army of volunteers arose to light candles and warm the precious bud crop. 10% died in 2020's late Spring frosts but those that survived flourished. The sun came out, the days lengthened and the grapes grew.
As Covid levels dropped and our freedoms were returned, inspiration rose up & new ideas formed of how to to be creative within these beautiful spaces during the summer months. Getting outside & breathing deep was trending all over the English countryside. Early morning yoga salutes to the rising sun. Pilates as the sun sank. Jogging at dusk. Cycling at dawn. Mid-day hikers. Family picnics. Wine sampling, food tasting. Opera singing & dog walking. Bee hives and roses. Sunshine & not very much rain.
It has been epic in every way. From the violent shock waves that shook our world in March to the soaring temperatures of July & August. This year saw heat waves and achingly dry periods with not a drop of moisture to refresh these flourishing but thirsty vines.
Summer came and summer went. The grapes swelled and shrunk. Moisture levels fluctuated. Sugar levels increased. Through it all the grapes were watching & maturing. Month after month after month.
And into these fields of green & gold I came on the day of the Autumn equinox. An imbetween day of Indian Summer September sunshine.
Just as the crops were coming in. The end of the summer and beginning of the Autumn. I wore a green spotty dress and pink hat to celebrate the 2020 harvest. Denbies Vineyard was awash with champagne sunlight. I call it champagne due to the clarity of light. Sharp, clean & bright. The wine shed a sticky floor of grape juice. The metal cold press vats filled with crushed fruit. Plastic crates stuffed with grapes came in on the tractors. Mountains of grape debris, crushed skins left behind from the cold press piled high - awaiting returning tractor journeys. Ready to be carted out & ploughed back into the vineyard soil.
I stood in the largest vineyard in Britain and soaked in the Autumn equinox sunshine. I looked around and thought that I wanted to capture this. To bottle this. To remember this. The bright champagne light. The rows and rows of emerald green vines. The blue skies. The happy faces of those jogging or walking alongside me. The victory of Autumn. The survival of the past crazy year.
And I will. I will remember this because someone will bottle this - And the wine never lies!
It tells the story and remembers the seasons. The soil ( terroir.) The sunlight. The churning of the atmosphere.
In 4 or 5 years, when the 2020 vintage of English sparkling wine has matured - bubbling with delicious flavours - this will be a bottle of wine that I will be buying.
It will not be forgotten. I will honour the grapes and let them mark 2020 - this painful and epic Jubilee year. It has been crushing. It is bringing new wine on the earth.
As Covid19 has taught us - we are more linked than we realised. When one suffers we all suffer. We are mortal. We will all die - if not now then eventually.
What happens in China will impact me in Europe. Our worlds and countries are much more intricately connected than we realised. If a virus can circle the globe, touching individuals in Brazil & India, it will be felt in Poland as well as France. We are all facing a common enemy. Our world has never faced a situation like this before.
In the words of John Donne (who married into the extended family at Loseley) 'No man is an island' or as we say with more current lingo - 'We are all in this together!'
And since we are all mortal, let us at least take that first kiss and drink that second glass of wine!
“ We are all mortal until the first kiss and the second glass of wine. ”
~ Eduardo Galeano
Photo credits - Albury Vineyard, Greyfriars Vineyard, Chilworth Manor Vineyard, Jamie Beck.
Comments