I was at a vineyard called, Rustic Spur, where I was greeted upon arrival by the property's most alert ambassador and security chief. I'm not sure but I think his name was, Tannin. He made sure I parked in a good spot and checked me for suspicious smells. With no cat odors detected he loosened his grip a bit and welcomed me with a casual tour.
During the morning he was all over the vineyards, checking the progress of the people picking grapes and then inspecting the overflowing tubs of fruit when they came back to the main building. As we left to go visit another vineyard each person, in succession, came by to wish him a good day and scratch him for a bit behind the ears. I'm guessing it's a good job. I'm wondering where one applies.
I'm always swimming in the mornings. Last Saturday was different. I got up at 5 a.m. to head out West to a place just outside of Stonewall, Texas to photograph people hand-picking grapes at a vineyard. These were not "eating" grapes, they were wine grapes. The light looked so beautiful and everywhere I turned the sky was deep blue. I turned around, away from the people working, and was captivated by the patterns of the wine posts.
I should get out of the house early more often. There's beautiful light out there. Too bad it happens during swim practice. But I guess a compromise could be reached.
Getting the Leica 24-90mm lens dialed in. It's heavy but it's a whole different ballgame when it comes to the way it renders images. I suppose I should keep it.