That’s what I chose to be. I first worked with my father; I learned the ropes, I soaked up the knowledge. I make and sign my own wine now. I’m content in my vineyard. I take care of my vines with both deep-rooted and intimate happiness. It’s like an infant I care for every day, bringing the fruit that make my Chablis to maturity. All year round, I work the land: ploughing, tilling and hoeing. Pruning with care, I count the seven nodes along the cane and two more on the renewal spur. The vines bud. In June the hills fill with their scent and I count the 100 days remaining until harvest. Summer goes by, the last Swallows take flight and I harvest the golden seeds.