Balance

Petite Pearl grapes in the South Vineyard, August 2013

These deep days of winter, with the vineyard blanketed in snow, we think ahead to the warmest days of summer.

We contemplate the fruit these now bare twigs will bear.

The foliage is long gone. A few shriveled grape clusters cling through wintry gusts. Sometimes it is hard to remember the verdant abundance of a few months ago.

But summon those summery scenes we must, for decisions we make now will affect the yield of September.

In winter we prune.

We cut the prolific growth of last summer back to a few stubby spurs, short woody stubs sprouting from (increasingly) gnarled trunks below.

We place last summer’s canes—brittle tawny twigs, still kiwi-green in the center—in yellow plastic harvest totes that in the fall held sweet fruit. We weigh them.

Pruned Marquette canes in a harvest tote, to be weighed.

There is a formula for balanced pruning.

The weight of the canes removed from each vine gives us a sense of that plant’s vigor. The vigor of last year’s growth lets us know how much energy is stored in those bare trunks and hidden roots to feed next year’s crop. The formula lets us know how long to leave the spurs on top of the permanent trunk.

Two, three, or four buds per spur? The weight of the prunings and the grape varietal they come from will help us to know.

The goal is balance: curbing the vine’s prolific tendencies. Producing the best yield, without stressing the plant’s permanent health with too much fruit.

Balance: just enough vigor, but not too much.

Balance: visualizing prolific growth that will emerge from the buds that remain, projecting how many buds might be lost to late season frost.

Contemplating autumn’s sunny abundance, on a frigid January afternoon in a snow capped vineyard: its own form of balance, I suppose.