I remember reading once a quote about perspective. The author, who’s name I unfortunately can’t recall, wrote something about how it is not so much the world around us that changes as it is the eyes through which we see it. When I read the quote I thought it interesting, but did not give it any more thought. Lately, however, it has been on my mind.
Earlier this year, I returned from Australia, where I had been working a harvest in the wine region of Margaret River, in Western Australia a few hours south of Perth. There I worked with Shiraz, that ubiquitous Aussie grape that has become as synonymous with Down Under as kangaroos, though much nicer to have with dinner. There was also plenty of Cabernet Sauvignon, Semillon, Sauvignon Blanc and (my own personal favorite grape of the region) Chardonnay. Though winemakers from Margaret River will tout the reds, it was this noble variety that seduced me more than any other.
The time I spent in Margaret River was my third harvest away from the vineyards of my home in southern Oregon and my second in the southern hemisphere. As it has been with every region I’ve worked in since leaving Oregon and becoming a “traveling winemaker”, Australia broadened my view of wine, winemaking, viticulture and terrior. The experience of “Oz”, as the Aussies call it, also helped me to gain a greater understanding of my passion for wine.
The same passion that took me to Margaret River to fall in love with her Chardonnay, enticed me back to Oregon this year to take on a new role. Word of my travels had spread and while I was road-tripping across Australia after harvest, on my way to the Great Barrier Reef, I received an email asking if I would be interested in coming back to Oregon to work as consulting winemaker, for harvest, for a couple of small start-up wineries. And so, ever curious for something new, I soon found myself boarding a plane in Sydney for another trip across the Pacific, swapping winter for summer and gaining a day for the one I had lost some 6 months before.
Not long after I arrived back in southern Oregon, I drove out to the Applegate Valley to visit a couple of vineyards I would be working with. Just north of my hometown of Ashland, Stage Road cuts west from Old Highway 99 through orchards of pear and peach before meandering through Jacksonville and eventually winding its way to the Applegate Valley. It is a drive I have taken countless times, but not often in the last couple of years. In fact, as I was driving I began to realize I could not remember when the last time was. As I drove I began to notice what I thought were new vineyards, which is not uncommon as new vines are going in all the time. Then, I began to think I was noticing new hills, or at least different ones. Angles of ridges looked different. Some even looked taller, some smaller than I remembered and others familiar in ways previously not. And all this stirred me to ponder, about perspective.
When I was driving across Australia, I passed through many wine regions such as the Barossa, Coonawara, theYarra and Hunter. Often while driving through these regions I found myself pulling over on the side of the road (the left side by the way), getting out of my car and looking not only at the vineyards, but also at the land they were planted on. I wanted to take in all that was around me. In the nearly two months it took me to drive across Australia, I spent countless hours and days looking at different vineyards and valleys seeing all I could, and in doing so I began to change the way I would one day look at my own wine region of Oregon. That was why I found myself that day standing on the side of the road looking at vineyards and hills and creeks for what felt like was the first time. It was, however, not the first time. In fact, I had seen them all before and, I had seen them all before many, many times. But not like I saw them on that day, not like I saw them through those eyes. I realized then that my experiences of the last couple of years have changed the way I see. Though my home region will always be home, and I know it is basically the same as when I left, to me it is forever changed.
As I got back in the car that day to go on my way, any last tiny bit of doubt that I may have had about leaving Oregon to pursue my passion for learning, travel and wine drifted away. I felt good, like I was exactly where I needed to be. That I was in Oregon, made it sweeter still.
Harvest is nearly over now. It has again been true to form and an invaluable learning experience. It won’t be long before the last of the reds are sleeping softly in barrel and bare vineyards feel winter’s cold breath. I will move on, exactly where may be a surprise, but one thing I know for certain is where ever I am I will view my world with different eyes.
