It’s my Vineyard

These days I wake up to the Regnie Durette church clock striking six or seven and already there are sounds of activity in the vines around us. The humming, whining, droning of tractors that is pleasantly soporific. It is imperative at this time that the dreaded ‘liseron’ does not take a hold and strangle the vines and their precious bounty. Names of flowers and birds seem to have no resemblance to their English counterparts.

I am talking about that delicate pretty pinkish white plant the convolvulus or bind weed its more aggressive name. It twines and winds around anything vertical in its path, we have to treat it before it takes its hold!  This will be the final insurance that our grapes will be in peak condition when the harvest time arrives.

I have a few strands climbing the enclosure of my little ‘potager’ or vegetable patch, I try to photograph it for you but the rain has been continual and their fragile heads remain firmly facing downwards and their petals closed. Maybe tomorrow the sun will arrive to waken them and ripen the tomatoes too which wait, as the grapes do, for some summer warmth to give a blush of colour and enhance their fruity flavours.

икони