Today was a glorious autumnal day. October. Crisp, apple air. Everyone was bustling out and about in the community garden five minutes behind my building. People rent plots throughout the year. Little huts or greenhouses are constructed on most people's tracts. Today, after an afternoon jog, I stopped to meander on the gravel paths that bisect the acreage (most plots are surrounded by wood gates.) I stopped for a few seconds to admire someone's canopy of grapes. An older man emerged from the hedges holding a pair of pruners, an enormous crate of green and purple grapes for wine-making lay at his feet. He worked in the government. He spent time outdoors because even the hard work of keeping birds and insects from the crop was a welcome reprieve from being inside. Holland is not known for their wine. They have access to an abundance of inexpensive and high quality wines from Italy, South Africa and everywhere in between, but, the Netherlands does not have many wineries. The man I spoke with said he was the only person in Utrecht who makes wine in semi-large quantities. I left with a bunch of grapes, a present. Wine is not ready until July. Until that time, it ferments in giant glass casks.
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