Cool Down?

A somewhat chill wind has blown into the shire, blessing my outside work with cooling relief. In the run-up to summer, I’ve set up a perpetual squint, despite hat- brim shading. The light has acquired a heated white resonance and the country is drying out. I can feel it on my bare feet and see it in how the grasses have dulled into gray brown and the leaves of the trees have dialed back from vibrant green to a taupe gray green. Heat radiates in visible waves off every object. My perspiration seems to disappear as it’s created. And it’s not even summer. This cool breeze is my nectar.

The vines respond happily to these conditions. Fresh tendrils reach for the sky. Baby new leaves arrive daily. There’s flowering throughout the vineyard and the bees are throbbing through in a lovely trance. There’s a vibrancy that lifts my mood, feeds my hope.

I’m plucking leaves to open up the dense foliage to light and air circulation. I’m aiming to slant some sunlight into the grape clusters. This will reduce the possibility of mildew arising. Light and moving dry air is the enemy of fungus. With the Chardonnay, my intention is to create dappled light, to give partial bunch shading. Chardonnay is a sensitive thin-skinned grape and subject to sunburn, which can lead to “jammy” and other off flavors. Full exposure is undesirable, so I’m only plucking the occasional leaf.

The Cabernet however, can handle more sunlight and I’m a bit more thorough in opening up the canopy to bring in light and air.  At the same time, I’m inspecting for any sign of disease or damage and have thankfully found none. So far we have a perfectly healthy crop growing beautifully in terrific balance. Everywhere in the vineyard I’m encountering ladybugs and spiders and beneficial insects. All leaves are intact and vibrantly green. And the fruit set looks to be tremendous.  

Could this possibly be another terrific vintage?

Flowering Peppies in the Kambarang

The Wardandi are the traditional custodians of the land in our region and their territory extends from the coast north of the Capel River to the Southern Ocean near Augusta, just to the south of us. In pre-contact time, they lived a life closely tuned to the cycles of nature impacting their lives. They recognized six separate seasons, characterized by cyclical events in nature, and foods that became available during those seasons, whose length varied yearly but were each about two months in length. They were a migratory people, moving seasonally to take advantage of the foods that became abundant at different times.

We are nearing the end of the warm season the Wardandi named Kambarang, characterized by an abundance of wildflowers. It is said that if the Western Australia Peppermint trees (Agonis flexuosa) flower abundantly during this time, it is a predictor of coming rains. This year the Peppies are in deep full blossom. If I squint, they appear to be covered in snow. It is a time where moisture is in the air, especially in the nights and dawn, with cool breezes shifting in from the Indian Ocean.

With the moisture arrives mildew pressure. Powdery mildew thrives in cool, damp, poorly ventilated areas. It loves shade and thus could possibly be an issue in our closely planted vineyard, where the distance between vines is only one meter and our cordon is only half a meter off the ground. Powdery mildew gets its name from the characteristic white powder that forms, along with a fuzzy mycelium that releases spores into the air, which in turn spread rapidly. Its presence reduces yield and quality and in some cases can lead to complete crop loss.

The dryer it is, the less worry about powdery. Spore germination is optimal in temperatures of 22-31 C, typical of this season, and to counter it, I’ve been shoot thinning as well as spraying elemental sulfur on the foliage. Sulfur is a non-specific fungicide. Its presence reduces the microbial life in the soil so I use the bare minimum, but I use it.  It is only effective if applied prior to the appearance of symptoms – if powdery appears in the vine it is already too late. 

I walk past the snow-like blossoms and inhale a heady aroma from the Peppies bordering the vines. The promise of a cooling rain is enticing. And before it arrives, and after it leaves, I’ll keep the sulfur level up on the foliage, without which this lovely crop would be at risk.