Harvest Time

Under the low October sun, the vineyards awaken. Along the ochre dirt track, the vines change color—still green, already burgundy, coppery orange, amber—and the purple bunches of grapes hang ready to be picked. The winemaker makes his way back, wicker basket on his back, pruning knife in hand, and the grape picker follows him, her two woven baskets overflowing with fruit. The donkey waits, laden with its own baskets, beside the blue cart already full of grapes. Further on, before the vibrant foliage, the grape treader has placed her bare feet in the vat—the grapes burst, the must flows. In the distance, beneath the umbrella pines and mauve hills, the family farmhouse watches over the estate. It is the time of year when Provence yields its most precious fruit.