In our lives where most of us spend many a day feigning composure, we secretly pine for different company and distant lands. We find ways of moving on and trudging along while holding on to the notion that there must be an escape of some kind – a hiatus somewhere, a group of people that are inhabiting a place where all that needs to happen does so seamlessly. We imagine that we would be welcome there. We envision that getting there would solve all that troubles us. We begin to search for such a place. We ask those we know well. We open books and search online. We remain poised. Ready to find our distant land. Another tribe. Our escape.
Even if it’s for just a little while.
Intriguingly, we take a wine trip. We’ve heard of these adventures. We’re thankful we took the chance within minutes of the tour. But before that first day is over, we are hit with gratitude. Delight. Intensity. We have come to a place inhabited by fellow travelers. Everyone has come for the same reason. Except the reason has changed once we all got to the vineyard. It has shifted now that we are among one another here in this foreign land. The reason before was to escape. But as we stare into the smiles and hear the laughter of those we just met, we remember that life really is quite wonderful. And our reason for coming was to celebrate. Over wine. As we make our introductions to one another, we become the harbingers of an unforgettable affair. We drink to love. To what was. What will be. To all the experiences that made us strong. To every story we lived through so we could tell it. We drink to the winemaker who talked to the grapes and spent his free time sitting with the vines. We drink to our decision to come to the very table we find ourselves – where strangers are as thick as thieves and the night wants to go on forever.