Bumblebee in heather during sunny interval |
With more than 1M cases of confirmed coronavirus infections and more than 54,000 deaths due to Covid-19 in 200 countries worldwide, suddenly the growing of grapes and making of wine seem rather inconsequential. Then again, it does provide some focus to a somewhat dysfunctional way of living in isolation. As an introvert, I'm quite comfortable on my own. I do worry about the world though.
We've had a most unusual spring this year. The winter was unusually wet and seriously windy. In February, we had more than twice as much rainfall as normal. Early spring was quite warm -- we were able to have lunch outside for days. I kept walking around telling the plant life to slow down and not jump the gun. And now it's been at or below freezing for the past few nights. I've been heading up into the vineyard to check on the vines. Alex had plucked a few buds off on the main stems the day before, but I saw no real activity yesterday.
Sadly, many Albarino vines appear to be dead whereas the Pinot Noir vines look quite healthy but still asleep. Alex thinks some of the new vines drowned in the extremely wet earth. He did replace some of the other vines that were either whacked by mistake or failed to thrive. I'll just have to keep watching.
The orchard is ready to pop any day now. But it's still cold. The bees come out in every sunny interval. At least I have my new pond. Bring on the frogs.
My new pond with solar fountain. |
Meanwhile, I was contacted by a journalist who is doing an article for Cara, the Aer Lingus onboard magazine. David Walsh was to do an interview and Cara would send out a photographer. I said there wasn't much to report as we've not yet had our first grape harvest. He convinced me that my story is interesting and sent me four questions to answer by email. It was actually quite fun to do. We'll see.
Rondo not yet ready |
Pinot noir looking encouraging |
Albarino looking dead |
New vines in place |
Plum is the first this year |
Cherries getting ready |
Apple blossoms about to burst |
The birth of a sycamore |