The second half of August is harvest time. Dawn breaks at 7, but the vineyard welcomes us as early as 6 in the morning: the air is cooler, and it’s easier to work. The sun soon becomes a blazing furnace, scorching our already tanned skin. You can smell the torn leaves and the sugary grapes that stain our gloves and clothes. We pick slowly, moving from one row to the next, without stopping. Our friend Pippo keeps us company, following us every step of the way and never leaving our side.
