The Brief Breath of the 2025 Harvest
On this clear dawn of August 30, 2025, the Gamay vines, gilded by summer, yielded their secret in a flash. Far from the ancestral labors that stretched out the days, the harvest was an express ballet, barely half a day, where the ten pickers, friends and family, danced to the rhythm of their secateurs. In the crisp morning air, laughter and light songs rang out, enveloping the vines in a contagious joy.
While the generosity of quantity was discreet, nature, for its part, had sculpted grapes of rare beauty, each cluster a jewel promising an exceptional vintage. At 13 degrees of alcohol, the future wine already whispered its ardent character, its promise of outstanding quality. It was a harvest in the image of modern times, swift and efficient, yet one that, in the warmth of hearts and the light of that brief morning, managed to retain the timeless magic of the earth. A fleeting yet brilliant memory, where the expert and joyful hand of man knew how to pluck the very soul of the year.
The 1951 grape harvest
This black and white photograph is a true treasure of memory, capturing the very essence of grape harvesting in days gone by. My uncle, the man in the foreground with his distinctive cap and that smile that so often lit up his face, embodies the pride and endurance of winemakers from another generation.
With a neighbor, he carries on his shoulders this heavy wooden bin, overflowing with ripe grapes. This was no mere basket, but a robust bin, testament to the craftsmanship and strength of men. Each step under the sun, each kilo transported, told a story of labor and devotion to the land. The weight of this bin, so different from today’s lightweight equipment, symbolizes the colossal physical effort, but also the camaraderie and solidarity that united these vineyard workers.
In the background, the harnessed horse, man’s faithful companion, patiently waits, ready to carry its precious cargo to the cooperative cellar. The rows of vines stretch as far as the eye can see, under a generous sky, forming the backdrop of an era where the pace of the harvest was dictated by nature and the strength of human hands.
This image is more than just a photograph; it is a vibrant tribute to my uncle, to these men who shaped the landscape with their hands, and to the work of yesteryear, where every grape was picked and transported with an authenticity and selflessness that commands our respect and admiration today. It reminds us of the deep and sincere bond that united man to his land, a bond found only in the most cherished memories.
