Wine Nostalgia
Wine Nostalgia
Wine talks; ask anyone. The oracle at the street corner; the uninvited guest at thewedding feast; the holy fool. It ventriloquizes. It has a million voices. It unleashes the tongue, teasing out secrets you never meant to tell, secrets you never even knew. It shouts, rants, whispers. It speaks of great plans, tragic loves and terrible betrayals. It screams with laughter. It chuckles softly to itself. It weeps in front of its own reflection. It revives summers long past and memories best forgotten. Every bottle a whiff of other times, other places, every one-from the commonest Liebfraumllch to the imperious Veuve Clicquot-a humble miracle. Everyday magic, Joe had called it. The transformation of base matter into the stuff of dreams. Layman’s alchemy.
Blackberry Wine by Joanne Harris
Wine talks; ask anyone. The oracle at the street corner; the uninvited guest at thewedding feast; the holy fool. It ventriloquizes. It has a million voices. It unleashes the tongue, teasing out secrets you never meant to tell, secrets you never even knew. It shouts, rants, whispers. It speaks of great plans, tragic loves and terrible betrayals. It screams with laughter. It chuckles softly to itself. It weeps in front of its own reflection. It revives summers long past and memories best forgotten. Every bottle a whiff of other times, other places, every one-from the commonest Liebfraumllch to the imperious Veuve Clicquot-a humble miracle. Everyday magic, Joe had called it. The transformation of base matter into the stuff of dreams. Layman’s alchemy.
Blackberry Wine by Joanne Harris
posted by Haley at 3:11 PM
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