Schramberg Cellars (Day 5)

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Tip tapping awoke me. Archie digging under the garden plastic? Probably just the cold, grey rain.

We left the farm and the coast, turning inland, and drove through second growth redwood stands. Navarro River Redwoods State Park. Exquisite greenery, sorrel footed, moss covered bay laurel. The stumps of the first growth are still there refusing to decay, hinting at the magnormous forests that no longer exist, save in rare pockets. As soon as the narrow ravine opened into arable land, the redwoods disappeared and we saw acres of grape vines, broad shouldered, arms reaching up to heaven, promising offerings of sugar and acid.

Car sick on 128. Winding away. Hills not unlike Ohio. Blooming black locust.

Salty chicken, parking lot lunch, classless but loving it. Champagne cave tour. Cool humidity. Insight, confirmation, confoundation. After a five course tasting, the world sparkled in the sunlight, and the broad Napa valley was filled with promise.

A private room in a spacious house. Nap in Napa. Then dinner. A foodies paradise. Makes me want to barf.

Walking Napa without talking. Low slung moon hanging below the evening star, on a thread, like Poe’s pendulum blade.

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