“Harvest is like a national holiday in this sense. The clocks reset to our own special time zone and the more pedestrian concerns of the day get lost in the tumble of Cabernet tonnage. I love the fact that the grapes own the calendar from August to November. The grapes brook no argument, suffer no excuse; they quietly, and by their mere presence, persistently demand. They are nature’s perfect narcissists. There is something of the heroic in doing something, no matter how exhausting it might be because one must. Harvest is the only part of the business that does not resonate with an emotional timbre. Doing is all.”
Excerpt From: Steven Kent Mirassou. “Lineage: Life and Love and Six Generations in California Wine.”