There's snow atop the Canigou already. I've never seen it there so early, before all the fruit's harvested. It's all the more remarkable as it's been our earliest harvest in years. The mountain looked regal yesterday, snow-capped with the late afternoon sun turning the clouds clinging to its lower peaks to whisps of gold. They shone bright. It was a lone moment of beauty on a day that reminded me more of Scotland in November than Collioure in September. Cold and wet, the rain fell straight and relentless and the damp seeped under the skin to the bone. The winery team all wore fleeces and jackets and the pickers stayed at home. No point to picking in that weather.
So we busied ourselves taking care of the ferments, pumping over the reds and racking a few of the whites. I started tasting some of the Rivesaltes Ambré in barrel, as I've once again to come up with this year's blend. For lunch we got out of the winery and went to the Taverna in Argelès as their plat du jour is pretty good value and the staff are nice. We ate and had a beer and wine and complained about the weather. Hearing a French waitress pronounce "rump steak" for the non-Francophones made my afternoon.
There's just a small amount of white yet to harvest, but still quite a bit of red. We've run out of room, however, and Andy's wondering where to find tank space. I'm off today, and managed to go for a run. The sun's back but it's cool; cooler than I'm used to in these parts. Still beautiful though.
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