Last of the summer vines.

It rained this morning as was forecast.  In anticipation of Mother Nature's waterworks, I spent most of yesterday afternoon turning over my compost bin and spreading the resulting nutrient-rich humus around the bases of my Cabernet Sauvignon vines.  I hope the vines appreciated my effort because by the end of the day I really appreciated being done with this particular vineyard operation.
The amount of kitchen scraps that Vinomaker and I manage to produce never ceases to amaze me.  I think that if we were to put it all the food waste that we put into the compost bin into the rubbish bin we'd quickly run out of space for actual rubbish.
Besides being good for the vineyard, I must admit that I like to observe all the goings-on in the compost bin: not in the least the antics of the red wiggler worms (Eisenia fetida).  And I also find fascinating the number of things that spring to life in the dark of the bin; sprouting potato eyes, onion-ends, tomato seeds and even the single leaf of a ZZ plant (that I had tossed into the compost simply to dispose of it).  It's like magic.
Composting is not without its dangers, however. This morning, after breakfast, I took a small bag of  food items down to where the compost bin resides (behind the barn); bits and pieces of vegetables from last night's dinner, sundry coffee grounds and tea bags, and a few eggshells. When I lifted up the lid the first thing I spotted was a black widow spider luxuriating, full-stretch in her web across one corner of the bin - just where I had had my fingers.  Never fear, madam has been composted into cobweb-heaven.

A sensory epiphany.

This morning, as I walked from the south building to the north building at TWWIAGE I got a whiff of a familiar smell, (something is rotten in the state of Oakville). With the temperature reaching 70° F today in Oakville I tried to find any excuse to be out of doors, it was just gorgeous.

There is a very definite seasonality to the wine industry.  Of course many peoples day jobs are cyclical; there are often tasks that need to be performed on a daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, yearly basis etc., but no occupation is quite as seasonal as farming.  Unlike an office job, where ones immediate environment changes little, if at all, especially with HVAC, working at a winery one is fully immersed in the daily changes in ones immediate environment - there is constant awareness of exactly where one is on the viticultural calendar. My olfactory epiphany today was triggered by the smell of compost in the air: a neighbouring vineyard was spreading composted grape pomace amongst the vines, a typical vineyard operation this time of year (to take advantage of the winter rains). It's not a bad smell, (it reminds me of being on a Greek island after an olive harvest/olive oil pressing), but it is strong and evokes in me an almost tangible awareness of the passage of time.

This past Sunday, Vinomaker and I bottled a 2013 Chardonnay, (grapes from the Carneros AVA, all stainless steel fermentation and sur lie aging) and it smelled great.  Wineries often have very definite bottling schedules, we don't.  Sometimes our day jobs just get in the way.

Happy Epiphany!