I am drawn to vineyards.
I think, very simply, it is the orderliness of the rows and the fact that, no matter what season, they remain standing like soldiers, awaiting their next set of orders. I am almost compulsive as a passenger in a moving vehicle, looking down each row to find the anomoly. There must be something out of order somewhere. But no, nothing out of order. Bare of fruit, or voluptuously encumbered, they remain stalwart.
I had a rough day today. No one died, no one on my staff was physically injured. But my job is such that, on many days, it feels as though I am under attack from the moment I step through the door until the moment I leave the office–and sometimes into the night, if I am silly enough to read my email. Such is the path I am currently on. Its not one I particularly sought, but one I seemed to have been led to. I’m sure I am here for a reason and I try not to question it. I hope my spirit can remain as steady as row 63.
I’m partial to keeping all my vines and fruits intact.