"What Grounds You"
Groundwork is something that goes unnoticed by most. A foundation takes time and much of it happens out of sight. Passersby can’t see the potential hidden below the surface. It’s their loss. To build up we must first dig down.
Our process happens at an all too human pace. We work by hand, we do it ourselves, slowly and methodically. Inspiration and motivation are quick burning fuels not worth consideration. We don’t rush. In that way we prepare ourselves more than we prepare the land. It is more about the transformation what we are into who we can be. It’s about learning, embracing mistakes and the decisions that chart a path forward. It’s about creating a legacy, not some transitory experience.
The burden of having choice is that we are ultimately the ones responsible. In our case we aim for quality above all else, but this is built upon first cultivating a foundation. It’s more than about wine or food. It’s about nourishment. It’s about recognizing the conditions for growth and learning to nurture that which sustains us. Yes, food and wine, but more deeply it’s about love and family.
We take our time in the long run, but we bias ourselves towards what can be done daily. We are not what we say but rather what we express through what we do. Real farming, of any kind, when done correctly is an act of love, and every act of love is an act of cultivation. Clear the land, prepare the soil, plant, water, nurture and grow.
Everything lasting happens in phases and with plenty of detours, but don’t mistake expedited necessity for necessary expediency. The work to prepare the ground now is the same effort as that to prepare the groundwork for the future. Regardless of where we go, there will be turns. Roads without curves require the least skill and provide the least satisfaction. Seek out the turns ahead and find a way to incorporate the detours as long as we stay rooted. In life there are no bonus points for finishing early.
To get wine, sometimes you need to first plant garlic. It may be just a phase, but the phases of every effort can be beautiful.
Our process happens at an all too human pace. We work by hand, we do it ourselves, slowly and methodically. Inspiration and motivation are quick burning fuels not worth consideration. We don’t rush. In that way we prepare ourselves more than we prepare the land. It is more about the transformation what we are into who we can be. It’s about learning, embracing mistakes and the decisions that chart a path forward. It’s about creating a legacy, not some transitory experience.
The burden of having choice is that we are ultimately the ones responsible. In our case we aim for quality above all else, but this is built upon first cultivating a foundation. It’s more than about wine or food. It’s about nourishment. It’s about recognizing the conditions for growth and learning to nurture that which sustains us. Yes, food and wine, but more deeply it’s about love and family.
We take our time in the long run, but we bias ourselves towards what can be done daily. We are not what we say but rather what we express through what we do. Real farming, of any kind, when done correctly is an act of love, and every act of love is an act of cultivation. Clear the land, prepare the soil, plant, water, nurture and grow.
Everything lasting happens in phases and with plenty of detours, but don’t mistake expedited necessity for necessary expediency. The work to prepare the ground now is the same effort as that to prepare the groundwork for the future. Regardless of where we go, there will be turns. Roads without curves require the least skill and provide the least satisfaction. Seek out the turns ahead and find a way to incorporate the detours as long as we stay rooted. In life there are no bonus points for finishing early.
To get wine, sometimes you need to first plant garlic. It may be just a phase, but the phases of every effort can be beautiful.