Our Last Harvest

 Only a few vintages ago (I stole that line from a movie), it seemed like harvest was a bigger deal. It happened all in one day, always on a Saturday, (because we were always around)  and everyone would go out in the cold, crisp early morning air to watch the buzz of activity of the collection and transportation of the grapes.

Over the past couple of years, however, the harvesting has been split up over several days, usually during the week. And we don't know when it will happen until we are woken up in the wee hours of the morning by sounds of the rumbling trucks, with their heavy plastic bins crashing into their sides. This will be our last harvest that we will witness in this lovely little vineyard, so I was hoping to relish it.

Not this time.

This year, once again, harvest happened mid-week, over 2-3 days, and in our morning school rush, our time was reduced to watching from afar from the back porch.

It's as if the grapes know we are leaving...

Just kidding. It doesn't warrant that much drama, but I've loved living at the edge of a vineyard for the past 6 years. I will miss it.