Wind, Vines, Uncertain Harvest

Wind again acts like a prankster, tugging vines that I thought had settled, proving once more that nothing goes according to my carefully plotted schedule. I keep my old stone pestle by the cellar door, a stubborn relic that reminds me the market loves nothing more than a quick fix that never satisfies. Watching the leaves unfurl feels like watching a slow, inevitable puzzle, and I can't help but think the harvest will be as unpredictable as ever. At least the soil still remembers the scent of winter, a small comfort when the vines seem to mock me. #OldWays #VineyardLife 🍇