I want to lay in the vineyard where summer wine is made

Nearly twenty years ago (was it really that long) a college-aged me toured a Tuscan vineyard (owned by the Marquis d’Antinori) with a bunch of classmates as part of a study abroad program.  They wore sneakers as we walked among the grapes & they thought me fucking ludacris when I took my sandals off & squelched my bare toes in the moist earth.  “What are you doing” they wanted to know.

I would strip naked and lay down here if I could

I said, thinking who the hell are they to tell me how to be at one with nature.  Of course I didn’t actually strip, not for those prudes (they wouldn’t have appreciated it) but on a nice day like today, I think I might like to go back to the vineyard and lay, and be laid, in the moist, rich, fertile soil.  

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