The vine becomes sculpture in the hands of the vinegrower.

When the vine is sleeping, the grower does not rest. Loving hands prune the useless branches and redraw the route of the remaining ones. The vine becomes a special sculpture. An rejuvenating cure made art.

The dream of the vine does not yield to external threats.

Mist, rain and frost. Mistral winds from the west. Nothings interrupts the winter rest. The grower protects the vines form any external danger. The winter is exhausted. The vine slumber is not as deep as it was.

The vineyards cries, and shows is shy firs leaves.

It comes with the first spring colours, the vineyards cries. Juice new tears nudge the old tears away. Life starts again. The buds announcing the modest born of the earliest leaves.

The buds outbreak tint the vineyards with greens and pinks.

Shades of green and pink tint the landscape. The leaves, delicates and tender, greeting the sun.

Flowers announcing the borning of the vineyards fruits.

Song for life. The leaves vigorous growth, aware of their mission. The inflorescences hide flowers struggling to open to the world. The fruit of courage biths. A brothershio of tiny and greenfull grapes.

The vine grower sacrifices grapes to soothe the vine.

The vineyards, as a child, grows up with a fathers thoughtful help. The vinegrower straights the rebellious branches and cuts the odd clusters. Small sacrifices for the harvest benefice. All lightened, the grapes receive a better sunlight.

The grape shade changes to yellow, and sweetens its way to maturation.

Shades of yellow welcome the grape. Elegantly dressed, the grape announces its maturation. The plethoric grains grow in sweetness. A nature that consolidates every day. Its destiny, the grape harvest.

Experienced hands gather the grapes that time has turned to gold.

Splendour in the vineyard. The grains imitating the colour of the sun that has heped them grow Gold for the eye and taste. Time to harvest. Expert hands caress the grapes on their way to the cellar.

The summer reveals its charms to help the grape growing.

The summer sun cradles the vineyards. The dewdrops transform into freshening kisses. The Mediterranean send its sea caress. A matter of time. Under the straight look of the vinegrower, the grape starts maturing.

The vineyard relaxes thinking about its winter nap.

Deserved rest after exertion. The exhausted vineyard begins to doze. A yellowish and brown mantle covers the landscape that was once green. When leaves fall, its time to surrender to winter recess.

The land is preparing to host the slumber of the vineyard.

Time of rain fall and shorter days. The sky is a blanket of gray shades. The moment of plowing. Removed and free from weeds, the soll has a better breathe and water drinking. A bed ready for the vineyards slumber.

The winter, dark and cold, invites the vineyard to sleep.

Cold and darkness wins the game to the winter sun. Days, shorter than nights, invites to sleep. The vineyard lies naked of leaves. The sap suspends its life journey. Dreams that yearn for warm springs.