Autumn is by far my favourite time of year in British Columbia, especially in the Spallumcheen, a township that teeters precariously on the most Northerly point of the sunny Okanagan. My family's vineyard is located in this wine growing region, and come late September, a certain crispness lingers in the air. While trees throw out handfuls of painted leaves to be twirled by the afternoon gusts, the urgency of our impending harvest is signified by the cast of longer sun shadows. One of the hardest things is the wait, the wait for optimum ripeness. We eagerly check our Brix level while we do battle with a multitude of critters…all whom want to eat said grapes. Hitchcock-like flocks of birds swoop in, while swarms of drunken wasps buzz haphazardly around your person. Black bears sashay by as
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