For the Good News to Find You

sensate impressions from the harvest period

It’s been just about two weeks since harvest here in this tiny Po valley village has concluded, and I’ve finally gotten enough of my brain back to begin to think about how it all felt, my first time through a vitis vinifera harvest from beginning to end.

The sensations are funny in the morning: I’m a morning person; I like to start slow. Coffee, notebook writing by hand, gentle steps, perhaps some reading, before I heave myself into the business of the day and the rest of the world. I’ve long been resisting needing to become the kind of poet and writer that must rise at 5:30am in order to get that kind of slow quiet in, the space deeply craved that comes before the barrage of to-do lists, dishes, emails, and yes, now, vineyard activity. But against all my better strength, this is absolutely what is going to happen to me, as I have decided to come here, learn from, and live with a farmer. All farmers are morning people, this should have been more than obvious to me. But this particular one habitually flings himself out into the world within about fifteen minutes of waking up, usually with excitement, often with music already playing from his phone. I am astonished at this energy. It’s from another planet.