Picture Captain Kyle Theriot, high up in the crow’s nest of the good ship Monte Bello,
–actually, Monte Bello viticulturist Kyle Theriot, high up in the cab of his truck–
his tri-corner cocked jauntily against the brisk sea breezes,
–actually, his dirty straw cowboy hat, pulled low over his forehead, to stave off a July sunburn–
with his trusty parrot Emma perched watchfully on his shoulder.
–actually, his dog Emma, asleep on the front seat–
He scans the horizon watchfully, through his one seasoned, crinkle-cornered, salt-air-cracked eye,
–actually, with his two perfectly good eyes, through sunglasses–
seeking signs of dry land.
–actually, red grapes–
His eye sights on a small hump of color differentiated from the endless blue surrounding it,
–actually, his two eyes sight on a cluster of small orbs of color, differentiated from the endless greens surrounding them–
and with his gleaming hook arcing out into the sun’s cascading rays, he cries …
–actually, with his dirt-under-the-fingernails hand cradling the dangling cluster hung beneath the canopy’s enveloping cover, he says …–
–actually, Veraison, Ho!–
All of which is to say that we have CONFIRMED veraison at Monte Bello! Specifically, in the Gate Block cab, down at Jimsomare.
Which means, for those of you not familiar with the term, that the grapes they are a-ripenin’!
(For more information about veraison, please click here.)
And for a real-life sense of just what it’s like to head for Jimsomare, knowing there’s veraison afoot …