Lonesome Day

So I want to do a quick post about something that I found amazing. For the past 3+ weeks I have driven past a tiny red car parked in the vineyards outside our house. It caught my eye and I immediately needed to find the tiny little person who must be associated with it. On the contrary, it was an average sized man who was hand-pruning the vines. I should admit that it took me several trips back and forth to ascertain this information as the hairpin turns in the road and cars careening in the other direction around those turns were not conducive to long leisurely glances in to the vines.

I know, "guy working in the vineyard," no big deal right? But what I found so amazing is that this guy was out there everyday for almost a month -- sometimes in the sun (not too bad), sometimes in the Mistral winds, sometimes in the fog, and sometimes in the cold, cold rain -- all by himself. He meticulously and methodically worked his way down the LONG rows clipping the stray vines all the way down to the trunk. And then, nonchalantly, moved on to the next, and the next, and the next. I thought to myself. "How does this guy do it?" "How does he stay sane?"

It must be so overwhelming to look down the row, not be able to see the end, and see 50 more rows that look exactly like it. But then it occurred to me that it must be cathartic: no kids tugging at your pant legs, no faces or hands to be washed, no dishes to be done, no emails to return (no blog postings to write!). Just one vine after another. Must be nice to be in the silent vineyards of Southern France with nothing to do but clip, think, and sing songs in your head. So here are some pictures, as a shout out to this guy (he did think I was kinda crazy to be taking his picture). Chapeau.