En route to
Soter Vineyards, I wound my way up a hill covered in crimson clover (yes, you heard me) and edged by ancient juniper trees. It's quiet and unassaulting up here, you'd barely know they exist if you didn't listen to the right folks down in town (namely Scott at
Community Plate). I pulled up to this lovely common space (which serves as the Soter family's actual kitchen and living area in the summertime when the kids are finished with their schooling) and the delightful Hallie walked out to the car with a flute of sparkling Ro
sé! What a greeting. We proceeded inside to a long table set for eight (with every kind of glass and linen napkins and all), but where we had a nice one-on-one tasting because the rest of the appointment's party were running behind. Probably their "Grape Escape" minivan ran into some trouble.....
So Hallie and I chatted casually for quite a while -- everything but wine, really -- then got on to the sipping, swirling, swooshing, aerating, tasting, where I was able to ask all sorts of questions I might have otherwise swallowed in the presence of six other tasters. I got a marvelous little lesson about the valley's history and current state, and tastings of some charming wines, my favorite of which was the Brut Rosé, and a bottle of which I walked out with. But not before......
...Hallie poured me a complimentary two-inches-or-so of the pinot noir...
...and showed me out to the patio that overlooks the valley....
...and thus I spent the next hour and a half with my paints and Mac the Dog.
Most importantly, I'm profoundly pleased by this view. This view and the cooing of turtledoves in the tops of the weepy juniper trees, dripping with dusty blue berries, the bleating of those funny, black-faced sheep on the hillside and the buzz of honeybees and the fuzzy hum of farm equipment doing the day's due work in the vines. Such simple beauty wraps me up. Fortunate one.
