MUSINGS FROM THE MOSEL

*This blog is a step away from the norm; Abstract, some could say erring on the arty..!

Early October 2022, from a steep slope in the Mosel Valley..

The light shimmers thought the vines on the precipitous slopes catching bunches of iridescent grapes hanging closed tightly around shoots, bursting with expectant flavour, waiting. Snip, sudden, direct and successful. That year’s fruit plucked and taken to tell the tale of the vintage. The warm start, the frost, the drought, the rain, some rot….

Standing in the Oely vineyard where vines have stood for over 100 years, pre phylloxera, pre wars. Waiting, standing, providing. There’s an holistic element to a vineyard. The silence, the birds, the unspoken promise of fermented fruit. No phones, just secateurs and the gentle shushed tones of your fellow pickers. Silence, stop. Meditation for the mind.

Steaming pots, brot, blumenkohl and wurst. Warm, autumnal, sustaining. After lunch a fortifying schnapps and return to the rows, there’s an afternoon warmth in the slant of the sun. It’s a beautiful day. With the vineyard complete we descend once more, this time walking, through the vines, down the stairs, across the river and back to base.

The ancient crusher and press is loaded with fruit. Riesling crushed and laid open to the air, nothing added, nothing taken. A gentle oxidative process driving stability and resilience for the wine. Dinner, discussions and then back to the press room. King Crimson or David Bowie dominate the speakers. The forthright engine driving the bladder to press the wine is loud, effective, the opposite to the gentle pressure it exerts on the grapes. The juice is collected, taken by gravity down to the cellar below. Nothing added, nothing done, just crushing and pressing, rocking and singing.