M. and I flew to Adelaide this weekend. T. and K. t'd the k. (tied the knot -- where does that saying come from? will google it later and get instant-gratification answer that is the hallmark of this 'information age'). From the airplane, the ocean waves move in a different way than I always imagined - and so different than the endless barrage of water you experience on the beach itself. From the air, the waves stroke or pet the shore.
The wedding was held in the Barossa valley, known for its vinyards. A place where time (as a grape-growing season) is bottled and rated. Wines are priced on quality, availability, distance travelled, reputation. It's wonderful how in wine we have a metaphor for valuing particular eras - how good was your year?
At the reception, we cheers and toast with wine making us soppy and loosen our emotional tongues. "here's to you, table 14" we toasted our wedding reception neighbours. (what's the history of clinking glasses?- must google that too.) We wash down our toast with a mouthful of wine.
Of course it's the earliest bit of spring in the Barossa Valley, so the grapevines are still bare. Like the proverbial 'blank slate'. Like pure optimism for the future, and perfect for a wedding day.
