great wine capitals

Waiting for the harvest in “Chianti Classico”

I will never forget that shadow. It was the shade of the cypress trees. In the hour when the sun started to go down, their shape so elegant and austere draw almost a lace on the sandy clay road. I was a child but I remember the whiff of the air in all its shades. The sunset was still far, but the air began to smell of that warmth that rises from the ground, with notes of resins and juniper, and the saltiness of the sea –because yes indeed, also these hills are reached by the wind from the sea. (altro…)