We moved on to our third and final winery. The sun was starting to go down. It was the time of day known in the movie business as “the magic hour” – the fleeting hour when the lowering light glows against the earth, when the rays are long, the shadows longer, and when everything, indeed, takes on a certain magic. The air was cool, crisp … the leaves burning in the light of the sunset. We were sloshily tipsy … not trashed … just that soft mushy wine-drunk. It was perfect. One more glass and all of us might have been in deep trouble. As it was … it was just perfection.
As a group, we bought a couple of bottles of wine.
Then we headed back out to the car … we thought we would be heading back into town straightaway, not realizing that the fields across the road would literally CALL to us to come to play.
I adore the photo below – not sure why – it’s rather random, but something about it is so suggestive.
First of all, you can just see the magic of the magic hour light … not as much as you can in the later photos when we really hit the perfect moment … but it’s begun. You can see how the shadows are cool and nighttime-ish where we are, but if you look over to the left, you can see how the sun is GLOWING on the field across the street.
I also love how Pat, Laurie and Michael are walking – they’re all tilting different ways. The photo FEELS like they’re wine-drunk. Like they’re all just reeling drunkenly towards the car. But in such a friendly way. Not WASTED. No. We were not wasted. We were punch-drunk. We were tilt-a-whirls. That photo shows our meandering perambulatory …
The winery walk.
Love this pic! I am giggling as if I had been drinking the wine myself, hehe!
And I am enjoying this whole picture gallery a lot. Thanks for sharing it, Sheila! I can really feel why you should have such fond memories of that day.