Yesterday it was slow at the Bent Gate. Painfully slow. Balls slow, even.
So I got let out early. Usually when I have the opportunity to leave early, I turn it down... I need the money, you know, and at not much per hour I can't afford to miss many hours.
But for some reason, I left. I wasn't sure what I was going to do... wander home, I suppose, maybe play with Cody.
Then I remembered the winery. A small winery appeared in Golden a few months ago, and caught up in the rush-around daily life so many of us succumb to, I had neglected to stop in, even though I love wine and used to love stopping time to taste some good wines. Really, it always seems like time seems to stop in a winery. A winery is a magical place, I suppose...
On a whim I steered my bike into the left turn lane (likely causing some annoyance to the driver I accidentally cut off- of course since this is Golden where cyclists are more prevalent than drivers he couldn't really do anything about it). I cruised down the block and rode up to the winery.
As I walked in I closed my eyes briefly and my nose took in the scenery. A hint of strawberry- a strong hint, actually. Sangria, perhaps. A sharp cheese. I opened my eyes. One couple canoodling at the bar, two winemakers stirring something in the back. A fifty, maybe sixty-something woman at the bar who greeted me.
I quickly engaged the woman at the bar, who turned out to be the owner of the winery, in a conversation about the art of fermenting a crisp white and the intricacies of Riesling. Soon three glasses were produced, each with a sampling of a different shade of delicious. A sweet pear Riesling, a light wispy Verdiccio, and a Pinot Gris I could taste before I stuck my nose in the glass. Then the specialty Sangria- ah yes, I knew I smelled strawberries. Made with sparkling water instead of soda, it was not sickeningly sweet like many Sangrias I had tasted. Ok, that's a lie. I've only tasted a couple, but they were more easily forgotten than remembered. This Sangria was as complex as a line from a poetic Shakespearean tragedy mixed with a faint hint of days gone by- a flashback from a party in college where I may have spent a semi-blurry evening discussing the meaning of life with the Russian exchange student tripping on mushrooms. Or something like that. Anyhow, too complex for this simple evening off.
I chose a glass of the Verdiccio. Tasted like cirrus clouds and a hint of rain. Or maybe I was just wishing for rain. Damn, it's been hot here. As I sipped the Verdiccio I conversed with Nancy, the owner of the winery. Turns out the winery was supposed to be a joint venture with her daughter who backed out a week after the winery opened and Nancy had already signed a 5 year lease on the building. Not given many other choices she decided to make it work. She seems to be doing a damn good job of it.
Over the next hour and a half I realized that Nancy had lived quite an amazing life. Married at 22, she was with her husband for 16 years and 3 daughters before he told her he didn't love her anymore, they divorced and Nancy had to figure out a way to support herself and her family. Being a stay-at-home mom for 15 years had left her without a lot of experience in the working world. So she decided to become an airline pilot. Everyone told her she couldn't do it- she was almost forty years old and had never really worked. She did it anyways.
As her kids grew older she started piloting international flights and seeing the world, staying in places for weeks at a time. She told stories of her experiences in Peru, Indonesia, Mexico, and Korea. We talked about life, people, marriage, children, business, and taking chances. The wine and the conversation flowed freely until I realized there were people waiting for me back out in the real world, that time really hadn't slowed to a standstill in the magical winery although I always feel that it does...
In the end I left feeling my life was richer for having met Nancy. It was a certain sort of interesting to experience a moment of connection with someone forty years my senior.
I guess you never know what may happen on a night taken off early.
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