the vines have turned red

the vines of the languedoc, and i assume everywhere else there are vines, spend a lot of the year leafy green and a lot of the year pruned bare like crucifixes. it’s a lot like the trees back home, half a year bursting with chlorophyll, half a year bare and somber. and, in the case of some species of trees and some species of vines, one brilliant moment, maybe a week if you’re lucky, of flaming glory. this is that week here.

autumn grape vine leaves