Renewal

County winters are too cold for grape vines. Most vines are buried every winter under a few inches of soil to protect them from the coldest days. After fall harvest, the four most promising canes from each vine are tied along a wire six inches above the ground. Through a mix of cultivating and plowing, a tractor covers the vines with soil. The buried vines rest until spring.

In April, the process of dehilling begins. Tractors shave the soil mounds until the vines become visible. Then the remaining soil is knocked off. Four retained canes are tied to a higher wire, ready for the growing season.

2017 was tough. April showers wouldn’t stop and May repeated the deluge. The Earth was replenishing from the previous year’s drought. Many vines had to be dug out by hand; tractors don’t swim in thick mud clay. Nash Hardware sold out of hoes and wouldn’t be restocked until the following Wednesday.

May 2017. I pull into Trail Estates a little after 8 a.m. A vineyard worker, Heather Henderson, is already ankle deep in thick mud clay. Heather woke at six. She had breakfast, dropped her boyfriend at work, then drove an hour and a half to the vineyard. Heather will spend eight hours in the mud. Clay caking her boots. Unceasing rain drenching her clothes. Her arms will tire from the repetitive work. Her back will ache.

Heather’s journey began a year earlier, in May 2016. She was working a passionless office job in Kingston and needed an escape. Depressed and downtrodden, she left her job and fled the city. Heather’s parents took her in. Months passed. Then she went on a wine tour of Prince Edward County. Somewhere between Rossmore and Wellington she experienced a change. A quiet murmur within turned into a clear voice. A calling.

I met Heather a few weeks later when she came to a seminar I was giving on grape ripeness. The facilitation was duller than the topic. While other attendees buried themselves in yet another glass of wine, Heather was totally engaged.

I didn’t see Heather until the following spring, her feet firmly planted in that thick mud clay. She was living in Kingston again and flourishing. However, the exhaustion she felt at the end of her first day was palpable. Vineyard work is demanding in a way few other jobs can be. As she began the hour and a half journey home, I was convinced I’d never see her again.

I was wrong. Heather came back the next day and the one after. She split her summer between the vineyard and tasting room. She helped Trail’s winemaker, Mackenzie, crush grapes at harvest and top barrels during winter. I’m astounded by her depth of character and commitment.

I cling to stories of renewal. Vines regrowing after a harsh winter. Earth regenerating after a drought. Wednesday deliveries to Nash Hardware and the promise of Spring.

The renewals that matter most are the hardest to see. An exhausted person with an enlivened soul. A washing of feet in thick mud clay.

Ryan Monkman’s son giggles. His wife draws. Ryan consults on wine and cidermaking. Instagram: @rgmonkman