Sudden Change in the Weather

Yesterday there was a change in the weather. It happened with a slow sort of suddenness. The breeze stilled, the perpetual sea haze condensed. By mid-afternoon it had been overwhelmed, having given way inert ranks of wispy white cloud I hadn't seen on the sky here since May. Dark fell and the night was backlit by the moon. I slept deeply, dreaming of lunar revels on the sea of rains. Mare imbrium. The clouds were there still in the morning, now congealed into a more portentous shade. I stayed in until noon, sensing occasional bursts of rain flicking down onto our terrace. Sometime after noon it seemed to lift, and the kitchen was filled with light. I went out and surveyed our pergola. It was time.

The fruit was low and full. In some places it had suffered the hungry attentions of bees and wasps. I fetched a chair and shears and began to cut down the bunches, one at a time, until I had seventeen, each weighing maybe a pound. The vine originates in the southeast corner of the terrace, growing seven feet and more up a guidepole before forking into its two main branches. One of these snakes out over the main frame of the pergola, while the other has been teased over time onto an iron scaffold rising from our balcony, whose Aegean view it frames with green leaves like a maple's, and sweet, low-hanging fruit. The upper branch is the richer: From it I cut down twelve bunches, as opposed to five from lower branch that overlooks the terrace.

The haul amounted to maybe fifteen pounds, which I carried down to the bathroom in a plastic basin. After an hour or more of plucking and segregating I had a bucket full of plump purple grapes, with a healthy remainder earmarked for conversion into raisins. And then the fun began...


After washing and scrubbing our feet, Penelope and I took turns dancing in the grapes until they had lost well over half the volume they'd first displaced. To be sure of extracting as much of the juice as possible I also used a flat-bottomed colander, rocking it back and forth under my weight. The rest was easy: We poured the entire mash into two fermenters, added sugar and yeast, bunged them, and fitted the bungs with fermentation locks. I haven't a clue how it will turn out.


We are now deep into the night here, and the rain is falling in sheets. I am overcome with satisfaction at having harvested the grapes at the very moment Summer drew to a close.