When I was a little girl hearing the stories of the spies checking out the promised land, I envisioned them carrying clusters with grapes the size of basketballs. Could you imagine trying to take a bite?
The grapes in the Napa Valley were not enormous, but certainly plentiful.
Pictures couldn’t capture it, but we drove through thirty-six miles of vineyard after vineyard.
At Jeriko Estate, we learned that the vintner was a Fetzer. His mother, Kathleen, bore eleven children. How fitting that we should find an olive tree with lots of little shoots in the courtyard.