A tempting landscape where your senses will thrive.
We're well beyond the grape, here. This is a sensory place. Sensual, elegant, ducet - as the ...
It takes a special
sort of soil
Slow. Slow. Slow down, look down, this is where you get up. It takes a different pace to truly understand it. You taste it, red, blood, love, and you understand that it takes a special sort of soil to create it. It needs to be strong, almost brutish, bold - always. Hear it. Sssh. Closer. Closer. Let it whisper its secrets through the old leaves. Some droplets complete the dialogue, and there’s freedom and beauty and you feel it, at last, forever.
This is where,
this is when.
This is past, today and tomorrow, this is defiance and tales of old, this is forever and ever. Here, you will know the centuries and hear the stories that defined slopes and characters. Here, you will feel the decisive inspiration for that oh so slow dance under a delicate hum, the bright stars and the embrace of the branches.
A moment that
defines the very
essence of unique.
Off with the trivial! This is the place where memoirs are defined, in the vast land of grapes and hillsides but where no plain is underestimate. Peaceful and tender, these lands will be with you up until that first, final kiss - and then it will provide explosions in the sky and the laugh.
You will forever love. And taste.
This is what a wedding in a vineyard can be - a small part of it, at least. The rest needs to be lived. Maybe you'd like to share this short story and inspire others. Or a special other, who knows.