The vineyard grew today by several more rows of wine grapes. We are nearing 100 vines now, having started on this vineyard a year ago. While disasters currently ring the globe – wars, radiation, earthquakes, tsunamis… putting each grape scion into the hole, pouring in mycorrhizal fungi, which encourages good root development, is an act of faith in the future – a belief that we will celebrate each day, our life and our loves… Someone once said, "Life enriches the luxury of a
Good Wine" and vice versa I would add.
Dry wood pushes down the western slope in regular sequence, measured off carefully before tamping it down hard and moving to the next spot to slip another scion in. Soon we will put the structure in – end posts and connecting wire giving the foliage support to snake along. We will fertilize with fish emulsion later this spring. That sounds like fun….One day as we toast the fruit of our labor from a bottle with an Adytum Sanctuary label; we will realize it was worth every bit of backbreaking (and nose-holding) effort.
We have ten Venus, and a new grape for us called Schuyler-five -, and a block of Pinot Noir, my all time favorite. We have about forty Marchel Foch, five Glenora, Flame with its awesome fall foliage, Vanessa, Merlot and about ten miscellaneous ones. We thought we’d lost most of the vines in the harsh winter, but each firm tug found strong roots sunk deep into the heart of the land. The first year is for the roots, thus the administration of mycorrhizal fungi into the planting hole, the second for the vine, and the rest for training and fruiting. Grapevines are one of the most labor intensive, hands on crops there is, maybe “the” most. We will come to know each vine intimately, as a child and a life giving friend. We will train it with wisdom and skill and nurture it into great production that gives satisfaction to many.
It’s fitting that many of the biblical analogies are of Jesus as the vine and God as vinedresser of the vineyard- us. We too require a lot of hands on care and training to bring us to potential. “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser…Abide (live) in me and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” John 15.
Our potential as humans lies in the ability to be connected to Life, trusting God to flow through us to complete all the great plans that were set aside with our name on them when we were born.
The training and pruning of the young vines will reflect a great deal of skill and education on the part of the vinedresser, and much patience as well waiting years for the fruit to come. Grapes perform best on poor soil and under stressful situations. Give them too much water or fertilizer (comforts and ease) and all you get is leaf. Take them to their limit with what I’ll call “productive stress” and they will produce the best grapes possible.
When conditions are moist and fungus begins to attack the vine, powerful resveratrol rises in the rootstock to defend against the attack. The same increase occurs when the plants are close to dehydration as in Australian wine production or raised in cold, high altitudes like Argentina and Chile. When we drink wine that has been stressed with hard conditions we receive the life extending, healing benefit of the increased resveratrol. Did you know that the first thing Noah did when his ark settled on dry land was to plant a vineyard. Remember how long he lived? And we’ve been planting them ever since.
We worked today bent over on the slope of the hill, cold early spring rain pouring down our back and soaking us to the core, gloved hands heavy with mud and earthworms coming up in bundles with each shovelful. Our soil is living. We haven’t killed it with Round Up and other chemicals.
Occasionally we run into a mole tunnel. Moles eat the earthworms – and the roots of tender young grapevines. Later when we relocated some Crooked Willow trees to pots on the patio so the hummingbirds have a place nearby to perch between nectar sips at the feeder, we use the dirt mounds the moles have dug up. This soil, according to the Biodynamic Farming book I read, is of a higher quality having been exposed to the rain, the wind, the sun and the cosmic forces of stars, the moon and the radiation that emits from the heavenly bodies. Old time housewives would use this
as “nature’s potting soil”.
Occasionally we run into a mole tunnel. Moles eat the earthworms – and the roots of tender young grapevines. Later when we relocated some Crooked Willow trees to pots on the patio so the hummingbirds have a place nearby to perch between nectar sips at the feeder, we use the dirt mounds the moles have dug up. This soil, according to the Biodynamic Farming book I read, is of a higher quality having been exposed to the rain, the wind, the sun and the cosmic forces of stars, the moon and the radiation that emits from the heavenly bodies. Old time housewives would use this
as “nature’s potting soil”.
Little chores fill the rest of the day, fixing the waterfall pump at the pond. The frogs have laid eggs in jellyfish-like balloons all along the cord and around the edges of the water. When hatched, they will help themselves to our slug community and finish up with mosquitos for dessert. There is so much life here – in the soil with thousands of microorganisms and above ground with the community of birds, insects, wildlife, and the dog pack, the old black cat called Kittyboy, and of course, Adytum retreat guests. The land is living and all is as it should be. We respect the land and the large community that lives above and below it in turn helps us in a mutually respectful existence.
One of my favorite quotes explains it well:
"If there can be such a thing as instinctual memory, the consciousness of land and water must lie deeper in the core of us than any knowledge of our fellow beings. We were bred of the earth before we were born of our mothers. Once born, we can live without our mothers or our fathers or any other kin or friend, or even human love. We cannot live without the earth or apart from it, and something is shriveled in man’s heart when he turns away from it and concerns himself only with the affairs of men."
Marjorie Rawlings
Marjorie Rawlings
I have taken a vow, like the Benedictine monks and nuns, of stability – an agreement that I will live here forever and care for this place with reverence. I know Donn feels the same way. We are committed to these nearly sixteen acres of land we’ve been allowed to oversee, nurture and love and bond deeply with. We will be here until we die and our ashes spread where we walked out our lives, overlooking the indescribable lush beauty of the natural world around us where earth, water and sky meld into one.
