And not just the Pinot. But since I’m here, I’m clear in her soell’s sphere. Light and diagonal, chant from floor to ceiling. What I’m experiencing, each sip with my new Bellacana friends, individual goddesses skipping across clouds. Familiar with the vineyard, so maybe I’m compromised and partial, but even if I’m deficient in objectivity, I’m honest. Smitten, trapped, romantically wound, and shown new Burgundy mesmerism.

I don’t just chase Pinot like so many thinking they’re wine writers or collectors or bloody connoisseurs (word I deplore)… Her, this bottle, and following vintages I would. Just for the music, composition, shape.

L’amour sans temps…