Another season comes to a close

I walked up to the vineyard today to find that the Rondo vines have dropped their leaves, every one. The Solaris are still hanging on to a few but a good many have fallen there, too. And so another season has come to a close and we've learned a lot more this year than in previous years. I'll spend the winter learning about making wine and testing soil. We'll also plant out the roses and companion 'Gaia garden' plants. Then, while Alex erects the canopy stands, I'll prune the canes - all 65 - in the dead of winter. For right now, I'll take pause to just revel in the art of nature and the awe of cyclical seasons. Aren't we lucky? There's nothing boring about it.

Autumn in the Vineyard

The red grape vines have turned a lovely orange hue, the whites are turning golden. We had a spell of awful weather, including Storm Callum which wasn't as bad as it could have been, followed by several days of glorious sunshine. The leaves have been blown off the trees or burned by wind beyond hope. But the grape leaves are surviving well. As are the donkeys. Sweet donkeys keeping watch. No one got blown away by the storms.

What to do instead of harvesting

In place of a harvest in this unproductive year, I'll start a new workout routine...

Gone grapes

One of two bunches harvested 

We had nasty weather this week. Wet and windy. The day before we had grapes. The day after we did not.

I had just noted that vintners in England were beginning to harvest and decided the day after the storm we would, too. It seems the birds were hungry during the bad weather and they partook of our grapes which happened to ripen at exactly the wrong time. There are literally about 5 grapes left. Everything else is denuded.

Lesson 1: use netting.
Lesson 2: harvest when you think the grapes are reaching ready
Lesson 3: buy a bottle of wine from Lidl.

A fellow grapist

I received a lovely note from Trevor Sharot who has planted some grapevines and is growing grapes in London. For some reason, he is making the wine in Singapore. Can't wait to hear about that. A kindred spirit who has embarked on a similarly preposterous (or not) journey. His blog is all about wine. His decisions are based on careful scrutiny and thought, as well as travel schedules and the like. I feel from his writing about wines and the experiment that he is having great fun. And his first harvest. How interesting. 

He writes poetry about wine for the holidays.  He may be a winocerous, someone who delights in trying to recognise a wine just from its aroma. And he's been following this blog.

It's interesting to know that we are not alone in the universe. Somehow, humans come up with random ideas in unison. Here's to Trevor and his first two bottles of wine. I can't wait to hear what he thinks. 

New phobia discovered in our vineyard

Weather statistics for Clew Bay, Ireland vs Galicia, Spain

I found a great Norwegian website YR.no that provides weather forecasting and climate statistics for the world. I wanted to compare the climate of the Albarino wine growing region of Galicia with the new wine growing region of Clew Bay. :-) I couldn't find Combados but Combarro gave me a set of statistics for average temperatures and rainfall over a twelve month period for Pontevedra. Similarly, when searching for Clew Bay, I got Belmullet data which is not really us but it was closer and more relevant than Claremorris. Claremorris does, however, come in a couple of degrees warmer than Belmullet, which is out on the Atlantic seaboard, and temperature wise is probably more like us here in Kilmeena. Our average temperature reaches only 15C while their's gets to 20C.