A wine doesn’t have to be an ‘important wine’ to move me—and drinking it doesn’t have to be an earthshattering kind of experience that shakes me down to my shoes. It can be the equivalent of something as simple and surprising as the smell of autumn on the wind, sunlight on a white wall in North Beach at 8 A.M., the sound of my daughter’s laughter, beads of rain on a spiderweb as the clouds part and the sun breaks through, an old man singing absentmindedly as he carries his laundry home. Just something quirky and peculiar that stands up like an Icelandic poppy just as your eyes sweep around to that very spot.
[via winemaker STEVE EDMUNDS, Edmunds St. John Winery ]
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