At Trefethen we tasted wine

at a long live edged table

light balancing off wine barrels

that surrounded us.

The notes in front of us spoke

of “bright, pineapple, peach, lingering

aromas of cut apple, gardenia,

tarragon, spicy on the palette”

another wine, “an elegant nose

of violets, plums, cherries, hints

of forest floor and oak.”

A wine named Dragons Tooth

“shined with the fragrant aromas

of boysenberry, baking spice”

then “nutmeg, oak that segued

into a long chocolate finish.”

We swirled the wine in our glasses

as we read the notes

admired the color, the light

and took tastes.

I was curious about their Cabernet

with a “balanced tannin

as a backbone” The Reserve was said

to” dance on the palate.”

I like that wine notes are often poetry.

At the Trefethen Winery yesterday,

the poetry written seem to have truth

in it as we tasted each wine.

Perhaps because our day started

with a tour of the vineyard

Time in front of a vine. Its barked thin

trunk holding up a large fan

of green leaves. Leaves

extending horizonally,

above its trunk. A line of “berries”

at the bottom, not yet

grapes.

Trained there to be below

so they can be easily picked.

Perhaps because we learned of the history

of closely watched vines, the coddling of them

to produce in particular ways.

Some leaves developed to create shade,

others to bring in the sun.

Perhaps it is learning how much goes

into growing grapes

knowing that is just the beginning

of the process.

Perhaps it was the fellow

who gave us the tour

who knew the story, the history, who sounded

like Jimmy Stewart when he spoke.

Perhaps it was his comfortable knowledge

that lead us into the old wooden room

to read the notes and taste.

Perhaps it was company

of friends at the table

Perhaps all of it made it easy

to taste the poetry.

Perhaps the wine was just good.

Published

by www Juddhill.com 2014