Going through old wine shots, in the vineyard and tasting room,

and it’s clear of the wine’s massive meaning in my story, and not just a metaphoric nudge.  It’s everywhere, it’s everything, words and sentences, bridges and drives down windy roads that take you to what looks like a house but is really where the tastings are hosted.

One shot of a wine glass, red occupying.  Then the other of clusters… then bottles, then trees and the sky over the vineyard at a certain point in the growing season.

Even in these stranger days, I’m centered and reset in meditative angles and colors just with simple and spontaneous stills.

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