I did church this morning the way about 85% of Oregonians do. I went up to the vineyard and hung out in nature. It was quite a message I received today. Martin Luther, the founder of the church in which I serve, said that Scripture is not the only text God uses to communicate to us. God also uses nature. A few weeks back I was sitting in a church and the preacher tried to tell us that this life isn't good for much and that we should really be anticipating how great heaven will be. Such messages just don't play very well in the Willamette Valley. We know better.
I was up early this morning (thanks in part to time change Sunday.) When I looked at the weather forecast for the week I thought today might be the best day to head up and walk around Coeur de Terre in the first light of day. It was awesome. I quietly tried to sneak in the front gate around 7:30. There was a beautiful fog hanging in wisps just off the valley floor. My footfalls flushed out several coveys of quail. I didn't even know they were present in the vineyard, and here were several families scurrying away from me as I walked up the rows of fruitless vines.
Incredible beauty was everywhere I looked. But maybe that's the point, I was looking. The drive through Muddy Valley was gorgeous (that's a photo of the drive I take to Coeur de Terre at the top of the page.) Every level of the vineyard had beautiful colors and wonderful light-filled clouds. And I got to work along side winemaker Scott Neal. It's always a good day for me when I get to be around him. I save up all of my questions, and pepper him with them several at a time. He's amazingly patient in carefully answering them all.
Incredible beauty was everywhere I looked. But maybe that's the point, I was looking. The drive through Muddy Valley was gorgeous (that's a photo of the drive I take to Coeur de Terre at the top of the page.) Every level of the vineyard had beautiful colors and wonderful light-filled clouds. And I got to work along side winemaker Scott Neal. It's always a good day for me when I get to be around him. I save up all of my questions, and pepper him with them several at a time. He's amazingly patient in carefully answering them all.
We only had one minor emergency today, so that's pretty good. I think we only lost a couple of gallons of Pinot Gris in the process. I ask Scott about some of the techniques he is using this year, and if he can trace where he heard about a particular idea, and what each technique is suppose to accomplish. I'm surprised that someone who makes such good wine would be constantly trying out something new. Scott says that he use to do a lot more--that he's more consistent now, but that he still likes to shake things up and try something new. I ask him about leaving the stems in the press with the Pinot Gris. Turns out it was more of a space availability issue than trying to change the wine. There are a million different things you can do in the winery, and Scott knows what he's going to do pretty much as soon as he sees the fruit. It's a mystery to me.
Right before I went into the winery to start punch down I drove up to the top of the vineyard to get a look at the sky. There were some wonderful clouds up near the big oak tree. How many great views can one person take in a single sermon? God was laying it on thick, I guess. Or, maybe Coeur de Terre is one of the Celtic "thin places" where God always seems to be lurking about--in a turning leaf, in a covey of quail, in a beautiful sky and in some wonderful wines.