Five minutes felt like both nothing and too much.
A sign for Second Sun Winery appeared suddenly, and Tristan pulled onto the road, twisting between thick evergreens on either side.As the slight hill crested, the trees thinned, opening on the left like a held breath finally released.Rows of vines stretched toward the hills, their leaves catching the low sun, glowing at the edges.A large building nestled at the end of the field, and a smaller one off to the right of it.
He descended the tilt of the hill, slowing as he pulled onto the drive leading to the smaller of the two buildings.It had only looked small from the road, but up close, it rivalled a mansion-sized bungalow.
Warm westerly light spilled across the wrap-around veranda, where strings of fairy lights stretched under the white wooden bannisters.
“Oh my.Wow,” I murmured with barely an audible sound.
He smiled, just slightly enough to show pride.“Thanks.”
We parked near the garage door, the engine ticking softly as it cooled.We sat as the air hummed with crickets and distant birds, and the world settled into evening.It was the most peaceful escape, a place a person could easily get used to.
“This is...beautiful,” I said, not sure where to focus my gaze.Whatever I’d expected, this far exceeded it.
He shrugged, but there was pride there.Not flashy.Earned.“She cleans up okay.”
She.Not it.
That told me more than anything else.
He grabbed our bags from the trunk and led the way inside, setting them on a chair before turning to me.“Before I show you your room for the night, would you care for a personalized tour?”
“I was wondering when you’d ask.”
He offered the crook of his elbow and I slipped my arm inside, following him outside, and around the veranda to a set of stairs facing another building.
“This is the production centre and wine-tasting area.”
The tasting room smelled like wood and citrus and wine, all deep and layered.Bottles lined the walls, labels understated but elegant.Two long wooden tables sat near the center, scarred in places, with at least two dozen wine bottles stacked on their sides underneath.
“How often do you have people in here?”
“It depends.It picks up in the summer with tourists and all tastings are typically sold out for all of July and August.I have special tastings, catered to my clients both local and across western Canada, and those happen in the fall.Seeing the winery in all its autumn glory just can’t be beat.”
“I can only imagine.”My voice was breathy and hardly above a whisper.
“Would you like to sample anything in particular before we start the tour?”
There were so many, I didn’t even know what to ask for.
“You seem overwhelmed.”
“Completely out of my element.I usually buy whatever’s on sale at the liquor store.”
A mock shocked expression crossed his face as his hand covered his heart.“I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear that.”
“Or,” I said with a wink, “you can take it as an opportunity to teach me the better way and educate me on how to choose a wine with meaning.”
“With meaning, eh?”He stepped away and walked behind the bar.Within a minute, he popped the cork and poured two glasses of red.
“This is my signature blend; the one that started me on this path.”He handed me a glass.
I lifted it to my lips, but his hand wrapped around mine, stopping me.
“First, give it a slight swirl.Inhale the scents.Let the savoury smell fill your soul.Don’t rush it.”
Nodding slowly, I did as instructed before letting the first sip touch my lips and bathe my tongue.
