"We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not dread bleak dusty imageless locomotives, we’re golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our own eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision." Why quote Ginsberg on a wine note? Because no other winemaker I've ever encountered so convinces us that some of the most vivid wines are made by mad poet-scientists like this one. A red field blend coferment that restores you to raw wonder. Wild beach strawberries in Glacier Bay, exalted and beaming under the Bear’s verdant tongue.