09 March, 2002
It's not that bad to spend your day under a blue, blue sky in early spring, where the birds sing all day long. This is where I see the firds bees of the year, the first ladybird, that has left its nice and cosy crack to warm the carapace. It clears the computer brain and puts up the mood so many degrees that you feel it.
Some times I wonder, how I could live without all this before when I lived in the big, dirty capital. But I do have moments - I admit it - where I yearn to breathe some Copenhagen air through my lungs, as I try to survive the bicycle lanes of Inner City.
Saturday morning had its own very rural - or maritime even more, perhaps - intermezzo, as the owner of the machine pool, that does the tractor work in our vineyards, passed by to spread the first fertilizers of the year. Quite a few kiloes of seagull's dung. Yummy yummy for the vines to start up their growth.
Now, I'm a lot more rural than when I first got here, so I just moved to the next row of vines to let the tractor pass by. I did not think too much about the rain of seagull's dung that fell over me. Good opportunity to realize that the smell of it passed by real quick.
The plants have not started the growth yet, but they must be working on it. I attach and attach and attach, and when I now and then need to cut a branch shorter, I see that the sap still hasn't arrived in the upper parts of the plant. The flowing sap, the tears, is the best sign of growth, and in Loisy-en-Brie it still has only reached the bottom of the plants.
Good enough. I don't need bursting buds right now. Still only through one third of the work, another 1400 meter of vines to go. Seven more days of work, that is, but since I don't go to the vineyards every day, it's likely to continue throughout March.