Friday, May 14, 2010

Under the Tuscan Big Tree

It’s a common occurrence. The father has accomplished many things. His life force is still strong. And his son is standing there, growing, reaching for a little piece of sky. Some light, some warmth. And time, rages in a corner laughing at us, mocking our every movement, because the fates are ultimately poised to win the final battle against all of us. And yet we try, we stretch.

It might be a bottle of wine or a million bottles of wine. They are grains of sand. But each grain of sand is a universe in someone’s world. And so, here we are again, on the side of the road, this wine trail, with a father, and a son, and time, wicked time.

Jacopo knows his father is a lion. And he loves his dad. His dad, Marco, is one of those larger than one lifetime guys. But as far as we know, we all get just one. So he has packed a lot in just 50 years. Jacopo is past the halfway point. He has taken Germany, Holland, China; he is reaching past the big tree line to grow under his own sun.

I‘ve written before here about this big tree challenge. My dad was a big tree. I’ve worked for big trees. I know big trees. But this is one with nature on its side. Marco reaches over to me and says, “My son is the one person I trust 100%.” That simple sentence is the light in the forest, breaking though and providing room to grow.

In Italy there is a tree, the albero di bosso, that grows tall. Google "bosso tree" and one of the links that comes up is grande albergo. So this site, this Bossi area, where we are, is named appropriately.

How many of us have our own grande albergo we must live with and try to push beyond, to grow to live?

As the father opened and decanted two bottles of his 1961 Chianti, he picked one of the decanters up to the light. “See how beautiful he is? He is ready for the world. It is time.”

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