Finnigan Hill Vineyard

January 25 2012

Sunrise at 7:15ish—an array of pink, red, periwinkle. A beautiful day on the farm!  I made coffee and ordered a couple of things for the team room in the barn then headed out to the orchard to prune.  It’s an old orchard, but it has a good mix of apples, plums, pears and cherries.

It was hard at first to make those difficult choices about which branch stays and which goes. I moved slowly from branch to branch and tried to remember everything I’d read and also channeled from what the team taught me in the vineyard.  “You’ve got a couple of options.  You’ve already decided what you want to keep and cut so just cut.”  It will be good to see them next week.

I climbed out of the tree to talk with my sis on the phone which was long enough that I sat with my back against a tree, soaking in a little winter sun.  Soon, Simon (the dog) came bounding over with a big smile and sat next to me, leaning in for love.  I squeezed him and heard the hawk screech.  We both looked up and couldn’t see him but it reminded me about the fly-by it made yesterday—low and near the house.  It almost felt like it was checking us out with a hello or who are you kind of investigation.

Three times today bees confronted me and the buzz was so loud I knew they were a little disturbed by my pruning.  I told them it was too early for them to be out and I wasn’t going to cut all the wood that would blossom. There will be enough for them.  It seems like the critters are unsure of me and that’s okay.  It will take me awhile to speak the language of this place and until then, I listen.

When I wandered through the back woods the other day I was struck with some thoughts.  Can you be in love with the bend of a hill?  The curve of a creek?  What is this I feel when I’m here?  Why do I want to lie in the grass and hug the hillside? People often ask if I’m lonely living here by myself, and truly, I am not. There is something my spirit feels—a comfort to be in nature. It seems like the trees speak in the wind and the grass giggles in the sun. I can feel the hum of the vines when they are growing so quickly into clusters of sweet grapes. Today I felt the yawn of an old apple tree as it stretched open its canopy in the breeze.  Life is good.

Cassie Wieden - orchard w-Sy