It’s the end of January and you can see from the photo that the roses are in full bloom, wildflowers are in bloom, the mustard is high, and the grass is green and long. We’ve had calm, dry, warm weather these past weeks after a fit of wet weather before the New Year. Crazy no? Now we’re rolling into a semi-drought. The plants are confused and so are the people.
Why do we only have four seasons? Four seasons seems so long ago, so unfit for our modern carbon-burning calendar lifestyle that needs a new perspective in order to cope with climate change (northern hemisphere):
Pre-Spring: January
Spring: Feb - March
Summer: April - Aug
Post Summer: Sept - Oct
Fall: November
Winter: December
Meaning that spring and summer take up to ten months and the cool, wet, restorative weather occupies only two months. This also better defines December and January as the best time to live here. And its true. The hills and valley are green, the air is moist and full of aromas, the flowers are blooming, the sun is warm in its light, and the slanted nature of that light provides new depth and perspective. I love spring whenever it arrives.
But I think we have to go further. Mankind has changed things so much that new seasons must be demarcated to a dozen (again, northern hemisphere) and forget the four seasons of your childhood:
Pre-Spring: January
Spring: Feb
Post Spring: March
Pre Summer: April
Summer: May
Pre Harvest: June
Harvest: July
Heat: August
Firestorms & Heat: Sept
Smoke & Heat: October
Fall : November
Winter: December
Which essentially says go someplace else during August to November because it’s miserable here. Getting the grapes in during July and August may now seem impossible but remember the whole cycle will be accelerated and bud-break will be in February and fruit set in May. Climate change will elongate the summer and shorten the rainy winters. Vines will shut down in October and go dormant in the smoke. November and December are the only two chances for rain and it will come in deluges of atmospheric rivers.
My vineyard is still wholly dependent on normal seasons, normal time, normal harvests, and things like hang time, pruning times, fruit set, veraison, sequences that repeat themselves due to a viticultural cycle of tasks in the fields. Not only is the wine you drink measured in terms of the four-season cycle but life in and around this wine country valley is still structured to vintage years. Most wineries are planned and built with only four seasons in mind and moving the grapes within its walls from one stage to the next. I’m afraid we are going to have to react to a new normal, one of a warmer world breaking down the year differently. Which means plants and people will have to adapt. Good luck people.
All of this seasonal folly forgets to mention terroir. Terroir is everything: the weather, the land, the hubris in the ground, the light, the vineyard placement, and so on. And that means the right clone grown in the right place in this new 12-season world. It also means a bunch of new drought-resistant rootstocks and varietals, too, some bred for heat, some for drought, some for smoke resistance. For centuries we’ve had the same varietals and I don’t think they are going to last this new 12-season regiment. And what it might mean is that you have a growing season all year round with different vineyards and different varietals that have been bred for the different combination of seasons within a new, warmer, 12-season palette. There might be two or three harvests per year and the year of vintage might have to go decimal: Vintage 2020.6 (June), or Vintage 2020.8 (August).
It’s January 30. Happy spring!