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Vintage
Summer draws to
an end, time has been spent drowsily under the shade of large elms and
leafy mulberries.
The trees have provided shade and a cool atmosphere to those who preferred
to relax on the hills of the Marches, instead of getting a suntan on the
lively beaches.
Hills
look almost bare, as crops have already been harvested, the soils have
been traced by ploughs and are now waiting to be sawn again.
Large heaps of beets are waiting on the edges of fields, to be loaded on
trucks and then processed into sweet, valuable and white sugar, which
sweetens our lives every day.
The
last sunflowers are tired and are waiting for a threshing machine. This
giant mechanical monster that has always fascinated adults and children
alike shall cut sunflowers, putting an end to their tribute to the
sunrays.
Farther on, a field still shows the signs of harvested wheat, in the form
of dry and thin and meager stubbles, which will soon disappear when the
ground is turned up.
The
hills seem motionless, yet many inhabitants of these areas are now working
hard; grape-harvest time is approaching and everything has to be ready so
that the cellars can welcome the dark and scented grapes at the end of the
month, to produce the valuable Lacrima wine.
Gestures
have been repeated for a long time, when taking care of wine presses,
cleaning the tubs and checking the large barrels.
Farmers, aided by a faint light, go down the broad barrels to take the
tartar away after it has stuck on the walls forming large crusts.
Farmers seem expert speleologists when performing this task, and the
barrels are so saturated with wine aromas that they may easily cause a
pleasant inebriation.
While
working, people recall past grape-harvesting times, the most difficult
moments and the deserved recognitions.
Everybody remembers the recent festivities and the peaceful moments in
which the Lacrima wine of Morro d’Alba linked villagers and
visitors, dealers and farmers, even though they were divided by past
rancours.
© 2001
Liberation Ventures Ltd.
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