We awaken now in the dark. Morning fog with rays of sun, then clouds and spits of rain, all usher in a new season, and buds continue breaking: cascading wisteria in purple and white; stately magnolias collecting the courage to blossom; camellias presenting pink and proper, then leaping, lemming-like to the ground. In coastal waters closeby, twenty thousand gray whales are swimming north to Alaska, and a record number of elephant seals are nursing new pups on the beaches of Point Reyes.

We cook supper now in the light. The sun still warms the sky when we reach for the first asparagus and artichokes, just arrived, or sweet peas, morels and favas, soon to come. We’ve still got our citrus fruit and avocados, but now strawberries are hitting the scene, and we’re about to kick the crabs to the curb and welcome back our old friend, the wild salmon. Last year’s grapes have fermented and rested, and newly bottled whites, roses and light reds are being released. And we are thirsty - both for these fresh wines and for the change spring brings - thirsty for companionship and spontaneous adventure, for laughter, love and living out loud.

This weekend’s vernal equinox - when ‘night equals day’ and the sun shines directly on the equatorial line - marks the official beginning of spring, and tomorrow is a full moon in Virgo. Northern natives call this March full moon the Crow Moon, coinciding with the black birds’ cawing, a signal of winter’s end. This Sunday, once again, daylight begins to win out over darkness, and as our gaze remains fixed on trouble overseas, we’re hoping this victory will be as figurative as it is literal. Especially in these odd and uncertain times, it’s important to come together, to be convivial, and to drink the good stuff first! We’ve been featuring some really amazing wines by the glass, so get your act together, dust off your drinking shoes, and spring on down to Oakland Yard for some satisfying seasonal refreshment.

Cheers,
Max