Never does anything to me, really. Never teaches me anything about wine, about fermentation or barreling down, but I don’t think I’m close enough listening, this Hannah belle me tells. Just poured first glass, and not thinking about anything but the night and what’s happening and I’m not talking about what’s in the world happening. Not talking about virus, but vivacity. In a screwtop bottle. Surprise. I’m surprised. Chardonnay, a character I’ve for so long avoided and fought with, never seen anything wine the same now strikes a peculiar alignment and euphony with me.