The beauty of Boxwood is no less moving under a blanket of snow as a fierce wind crosses your shoulders. Snow comes in passes through the season, Adam watches the vines with a hawk eye, and the wood that has formed on vines is cut away. Stewardship of a fine vineyard does not rest when winter arrives.
On the vineyard the stillness is quite deafening. The vines are trellised with a master's eye towards perfection and remain stock still and stalwart against the elements as winter encourages them to rest up for spring. On warm days I look for Adam and ask again about bud break, he reminds me that we wait until April. Knowing the grandeur of this vineyard in full effect creates both excitement and impatience at times; one is always glacing up the hill with great expectations on winter days when the temperature rises despite the season.
Out there, one can admire Adam's painstaking work with the modified Double Guyot trellising; every vine caringly placed or pruned; the health of next years vines always first in the thoughts of a vineyard manager as his nose begins to sense a nip in the air.
For a few brief moments now and again our sustainability mission is quite apparent: There are vine clippings neatly gathered on the vineyard floor. They will be picked up, chipped, and returned to the earth. Like the remains of the grapes from our wine-making, they continue to sustain our mission; composted and turned back to the ground, an ever-circular, attentive mission for both Boxwood and our planet.
Indeed, in this hushed season, the cave is not the only place where silence reigns.
