Thursday Wine

Thursday is the optimum time to open a bottle of wine. I will probably finish it by Sunday. I rarely completely finish the bottle alone if opened on another day.

Tonight is a special Thursday. A spring break Thursday. Spent what felt like a full day outside two days in a row. Learning about my new tractor. Learning about the land. You know it differently riding a tractor – and riding this one felt very different than riding daddy’s for some reason. Knowing it differently means knowing it more and probably better. Interesting that written here, ‘better’ means differently than when I was thinking it in my head. The reason is that I preceded it with ‘more’. I did that because I was thinking about better meaning more fully. So I wrote that as I thought it. But because more now immediately preceeds better, it causes the sense of better to want to change to something else – something “not more” because you would not have said more and better unless better meant something other than more.

I learned more about the land. I enjoyed that experience. Thinking about it now makes me smile. I am missing the sunset again – or, I am just not seeing it uninterrupted in my favorite watching place – on the well worn tire path in the midst of the grass, looking out toward the two pine trees. I should name them.

I think they are a manifestation of the Twins that is present in most European traditions. Romulus and Rhemus are the most famous, there’s also Castor and Pollux. They have a major constellation named after them: Gemini.

What name is most suited for two pines. Since they are not the species, the represent two qualities intertwined but distinct – a binary contained within a unity: I think sometimes they manifest yin and yang. I can see it spinning between the trees. But often it transcends good and evil. The experience of the sunset has for man been a daily opportunity to experience beauty. All one has to do is pause and look.

The perspective of the viewer also matters. With our imagination we could craft innumerable examples of situations whereby the sunset could cause someone to feel sad. It makes me happy, however. Very happy and fulfilled. It feels like I have never before experienced the sunsets in the way that I do now. I make a point to see at least part of it almost every day.

Now, probably thirty minutes later, I am ready to try this wine. I began this post mostly to note that when the pouring wine looked thin, my expectations dropped. Why do I have that response / prejudice?

The first sip of wine is pretty good.

As is the second. I like the acidity and the bitterness.