Golden hour.

I arrived back in California yesterday afternoon descending into SFO through a thick, ugly, brown pall of smoke courtesy of the Camp Fire (Paradise, CA).  Sigh, California is afire again, so nothing really changed in the fortnight that I was away.  Oh, hang on a minute, Vinoland's Cabernet Sauvignon was harvested in my absence, October 27th to be exact, I was sad to miss that.  And most of the leaves have fallen from the white grape varieties: the colour of the now chlorophyll-free leaves accentuated by the perpetual golden hour-like light quality that goes hand in hand with an out of control conflagration.  As a consequence, things do look a little different out in the vineyard.
I had an interesting wine on my flight back to America (on United Airlines - Swiss Airlines, inexplicably, cancelled my flight to Zurich with extremely short notice and I was rerouted through Heathrow.  Hmmph, so much for Swiss efficiency).  The wine, a 2017 Mac Andrews, The Haven Chardonnay-Viognier,  NSW Australia, was quite lovely (for an in-flight wine).  Crisp, appley, honeysuckle loveliness, in fact.  I can't find any information on this wine online, so I can only assume that it is exclusively bottled for United.  What I, in my little geeky way, found interesting about this wine was that it came in a full 750 ml plastic bottle (with screw cap).  Of course, I am very familiar with the small plastic bottles that airline-wine routinely comes in (187 ml), but I'd never seen wine, on a flight, being poured from a plastic 750 ml (in first class, they have glass).  So, I asked the male flight attendant if I could possibly have an empty bottle to take with me.  "No," was the prompt reply, "We recycle them."  Even when I promised I'd make sure it was recycled in a responsible manner I was still denied.  Alrighty then!

Muscat's last stand.

Vinogirl is back in Vinoland.
I may have returned from my trip to Blighty, but Vinoland's grapevine leaves are currently in the process of, well, leaving.  The biological aging of the vines, senescence, is very definitely taking place.  Whilst the leaves were mostly green when I left, just over three weeks ago, they are now, for the most part, yellow.  In fact, the leaf in the photograph is one of the very last leaves on the Orange muscat vines.  Theory holds that it is decreasing day length that triggers the biological process of senescence.  I really can't blame the leaves for departing, I do not like the nights closing in myself.  But I'll survive: I'll patiently wait for the reappearance of Vinoland's grape leaves next March.

The grass is greener.

Deere, John:
The 1.75 inches of rain that fell on me last weekend (I always take it personally), when paired with five days of ample sunshine with temperatures in the mid to high 70°s, have produced a distinct green haze of sprouting grasses and weed-seedlings all over Vinoland. Like magic, opportunistic r-selection plants have taken full advantage of the combination of rain and sun and have begun the process of turning California's rolling, golden hills and the vineyard floors of the Napa Valley into velvety-verdant vistas.  Then, a little time later, and after subsequent rain events, everywhere will have to be mowed.  Cycles.
Love, Vinogirl.

As my Whimsy takes me.

A bit of whimsy.  The past few days have been lovely.  Enough of harvest, work and academic pursuits.  Sometimes one just has to stop and smell the roses.  And whilst my tomatoes may have come to the end of their fruitfulness for 2015, my roses, including this Pristine hybrid tea rose, are still blooming.  Autumn in California; a rose by any other name, maybe summer, would smell as sweet.

Closing up shop.

Autumn is well and truly here.  In fact, I'd have to say that it was really quite wintry when I left for work this morning as everywhere was white with frost.  The vines are all busy shutting down and are losing their leaves.  Triggered by decreasing daylight hours, senescence begins in the mesophyll cells located in the margins of the grape leaf and slowly advances inward.  (The leaf above is a great example).  Temperature does not play a part in the onset of senescence, but frosty mornings will definitely speed up the whole process.  And yesterday, I harvested my last batch of tomatoes, so I think it is finally time to admit summer is over, sigh.

Hail, Mother Nature!

With the flick of a switch, and coinciding with the end of Daylight Saving Time, autumn has well and truly arrived in the Napa Valley. Halloween's daytime warm 82° temps, gave way to heavy rain on the night of November 1st; then thunder, lightning and hailstone on November 2nd. Cosily warm in the tasting room at TWWIAGE, me and a number of my coworkers gathered and watched Mother Nature's rather protracted spectacle of rampant precipitation. Yountville, just south of Oakville, seemed to be hardest hit during the storm, as there were widespread power outages.  There was still plenty of hail along the Silverado Trail, just north of the Yountville Crossroad, when I drove to work the next morning.
The past few days have been rather cool, so tonight I gave in and fired up the wood stove: it felt good.  It also felt like winter is just around the corner.

One of my favourite tipples.

The weather continues to be spectacular in Napa.  A few of cool mornings have given way to afternoon temperatures into the low 80s: a threat of rain did not materialise this past Wednesday.  So Vinomaker and I continue to quaff chilled white wines, one of which is the ever pleasant Laird Family Estate, 2014 Pinot Grigio.  With screw cap-ease, sunsets are appreciated, navels are contemplated and all is right with the world.  Sigh.

Back in the U.S. of A.

I'm back Stateside.  After a great holiday, I have returned to the Napa Valley.  The journey back was long and tedious, the only highlight being an Elvis impersonator who was on the flight from Manchester to London.  I lost track of Elvis in Heathrow.  I was hoping he would be on my flight from London to San Francisco, but, alas, he was probably on his way to Las Vegas.
It seemed like I was away for ages.  I don't know why, but I expected all sorts of things to be different when I woke up my first morning back.  The vines are a little more yellow, senescence is well and truly happening, but only the white grape varieties have lost any leaves to speak of.  It's a little cooler, but not cold, so there isn't a need to turning the heating on yet.  Still, it definitely feels like autumn.  Vinodog 2 made a big fuss of me, but she is such a creature of habit that just 5 minutes later it was like I'd never been away. 
Vinomaker was doing wine stuff when I left; racking, barreling down, topping etc., and he was still doing wine stuff when I got back.
Constancy is good.

Delicious autumn.

The weather has changed, quite suddenly.  Autumn has well and truly arrived.  There has been heavy ground fog every morning since Monday - today the fog lingered until about noon.  Temperatures have gone from low 80s last week to mid 60s this week, brrr!  But the cooler weather does have it's enticements.  I may not like the shorter daylight hours, but I do like the pumpkin-squash-cinnamon-spicy flavours of the season.  Like, as a case in point, this pumpkin seed brittle, made with pale ale, that Thud sent to me.  Yum!

Muscat mosaic.

Rain today, sigh.
The poppy seeds that I planted last Sunday will have had a a good watering today.  In fact, rainy weather is forecast to continue all the way until Tuesday, double sigh.
I must admit, Vinoland and it's environs look rather pretty right now, as there is already a green-haze of r-selection plants covering vineyards, roadsides and every other available surface.  I will, however, have to say a reluctant goodbye to the fetching leafy-patchwork of warm, autumnal hues that until recently were the verdant sugar-factories of Vinoland's Orange Muscat vines, oh well.  The now soggy leaves will breakdown and will eventually be available, to the very same vines, as organic matter.  And the cycle continues...

Happy Autumn.

Today is the autumnal equinox.
I don't usually like to participate in an England versus USA spat, but I really, really dislike the word fall - it's so infantile.
Fear not little Orange Muscat grapes, you may look a little worse for wear, (but you taste great) for tomorrow we pick.

Autumn leaves.

This is the last in my mini-series of posts about autumn colours.

There aren't too many deciduous trees in these neck of the woods, evergreens are much more abundant. However, the dozens of American Sycamore (Platanus occidentalis) that line the north side of the Oakville Crossroad are a reminder to me, as I drive to TWWIAGE on a cool, grey autumnal day, that even in California the seasons do indeed change.

Roll on winter!

Just Because 2...

...this picture is pretty and I just wanted to use it.
The vines seem to be quite resilient this year and appear to be shutting down rather slowly. All the better to store nutrients for next season I'm sure. The rain we just had knocked a lot of dying leaves to the ground and the vines are starting to look a little bedraggled.
The more seasonal temps, and the smell of damp leaves, reminds me that it is Bonfire Night in dear old Blighty. This, with the exception of Christmas of course, is an extremely difficult time for Vinogirl to be away from home, sigh! You just can't beat the olfactory delight of gun powder, hanging in the damp autumn air, insinuating itself into your nostrils. So fellow countrymen, light up the sky with Standard Fireworks and think of Vinogirl.

The essence of senescence.

Things are starting to look a lot different around here.  Things are looking more...yellow. It's a good job that I think yellow is a very nice, happy colour because every vineyard around here is not so green anymore.  The grapevines have given up their crop for this vintage and are now shutting down for their long winter nap, a process called senescence.  A grape leaf lives for approximately 150 days and so the first to give up the ghost and fall to the ground is usually the first one that grew in the spring.  The vine, however, first removes any goodies it can from the leaves and stores what it can in it's root system.  This way it is assured a kick start in the spring when the ground begins to warm up again.  The correct colour sequence is green, then yellow and finally brown...and down, not the autumnal colours depicted on postcards all over the Napa Valley.  Red leaves mean the plant is virused and will eventually die.  I must confess that I love to see the horrified look on visitors faces when I tell them that.  My grandmother would have said that the 'divil' was in me.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

John Keats was waxing lyrical about autumn in England but this season is equally as special in the Napa Valley. If you have never visited here this time of year you have deprived yourself of a exquisite sensory experience. Each season has it's uniqueness, but this time of year you can actually feel the excitement of the season valley wide. It's as if the valley has been snoozing all summer long and has now awakened to fulfil it's oenological promise. Witness the acquiescing of the patient vines to the will of the winemaker, the singing of field workers harvesting tiny orbs of captured sunshine, the humming of tractors laden with bins of fruit, the heady smell of hungry yeast, the olfactory delight of hopeful fermentations. All of these things, and more, combine to make autumn an enchanted time in the valley. Not a time to mourn the passing of summer, nor a time to dread the oncoming winter, but a time to take a moment, feel the mist, breath in the smells and look forward to a glass of Mother Nature's elixir.