Harvest 2005
Well, tomorrow is harvest...
The culmination of a year's toil, sweat and sometimes tears (depending on the weather) comes down to these next two days.
This year, winter was relatively warm and dry. There was talk of drought. Thankfully, it began to rain in April. Problem was; it kept raining all through June. So a wet, cool spring delayed fruit set about a month.
Late fruit set is not really a problem as long as there is sufficient heat in the summer and a generous Indian summer. The heat came in July, intense but short lived. September brought more rain and cool weather. Nature relented and blessed us with a couple weeks of warmer weather. But by this time harvest was late. The birds, perhaps sensing a difficult winter, gathered impressive numbers. The feeding frenzy began.
I don't like to shoot at birds. I'm not a hunter; I grow wine grapes. More than that, I sincerely feel remorse at each bird that I kill. My comfort is that I am a poor shot. Most of the birds are merely startled rather than dead when my rifle sounds. That said; a dead bird eats less than a traumatized one.
To set the record straight, I see nothing wrong with hunting for food. I eat meat. I don’t kill these birds to eat them. Rather, I kill them to prevent them from eating my livelihood. I still don’t like killing them. Well, except for crows. There are some of God’s creatures that I just find detestable. Flies, mosquitoes and crows, I gleefully slaughter those. Starlings too, I must confess; they’re just rats with wings.
I suffer physically for this skirmish too. The large purple bruises on my shoulder attest to my aggressive pursuit of the gluttonous birds. I’ll be grateful when the crop is safely on its way to the winery and I can stop firing that 12 gauge. My neighbors, as well as the surviving birds, are welcome to any grapes missed during picking.
The culmination of a year's toil, sweat and sometimes tears (depending on the weather) comes down to these next two days.
This year, winter was relatively warm and dry. There was talk of drought. Thankfully, it began to rain in April. Problem was; it kept raining all through June. So a wet, cool spring delayed fruit set about a month.
Late fruit set is not really a problem as long as there is sufficient heat in the summer and a generous Indian summer. The heat came in July, intense but short lived. September brought more rain and cool weather. Nature relented and blessed us with a couple weeks of warmer weather. But by this time harvest was late. The birds, perhaps sensing a difficult winter, gathered impressive numbers. The feeding frenzy began.
I don't like to shoot at birds. I'm not a hunter; I grow wine grapes. More than that, I sincerely feel remorse at each bird that I kill. My comfort is that I am a poor shot. Most of the birds are merely startled rather than dead when my rifle sounds. That said; a dead bird eats less than a traumatized one.
To set the record straight, I see nothing wrong with hunting for food. I eat meat. I don’t kill these birds to eat them. Rather, I kill them to prevent them from eating my livelihood. I still don’t like killing them. Well, except for crows. There are some of God’s creatures that I just find detestable. Flies, mosquitoes and crows, I gleefully slaughter those. Starlings too, I must confess; they’re just rats with wings.
I suffer physically for this skirmish too. The large purple bruises on my shoulder attest to my aggressive pursuit of the gluttonous birds. I’ll be grateful when the crop is safely on its way to the winery and I can stop firing that 12 gauge. My neighbors, as well as the surviving birds, are welcome to any grapes missed during picking.
posted by Long Sword Wine @ 5:56 PM
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