I went to Napa yesterday. A friend picked me up in a car and four of us drove north.
I lost my phone Saturday night, an expensive loss that left me with no means to document my trip to wine country. Turns out, that was just fine.
I sat in the back, my knees jammed into the seat. Rather than look at the scenes others had posted earlier to their Instagram accounts, I looked out the window at the weird orange California grass that covers hillsides. We talked about Darwin and sexual fetishes. Miles and miles of grapes fluttered past so fast. I'd never seen grapes growing before yesterday.
The dessert wine in a delicate flute was the color of perfect honey. Natural light poured down on the glasses and made them each sparkle and shine. I'd have taken a picture.