Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter;
They come and go, passing by,
As planet Earth revolves in the sky.
Clocks go forward, clocks go back,
Attuned to an annual almanack.
But I observe an equinox more personal;
One that is neither autumnal nor vernal.
The flow of my inner being depends
On the date a six-monthly period ends.
An equinox relating to the vine,
And idiosyncratic consumption of wine.
From the start of May to the end of October,
I drink white wine; am neither drunk nor sober.
The quantity is neither here nor there;
I simply drink enough to ease dull care.
As temperatures rise, in the lengthening days,
I chill-out with white wine, in a languorous haze.
From the end of October to the start of May,
I switch to red wine at the end of the day.
The coldness, the darkness; return to the clay.
Red wine revivifies, keeps the sadness at bay.
So, there you have it. No Pandora’s Box,
But a simple stratagem, the key that unlocks
The bounties of the vineal equinox.
A couple of years ago, I became aware of the fact that an acquaintance of mine had a habit of drinking a half-bottle of wine every evening, with his evening meal. I thought this was an admirable idea, and started doing the same. At some point, during the last couple of years, it struck me that I always enjoyed drinking white wine in the warm Summer months, and I preferred drinking red wine during Autumn and Winter. As the months have gone by, I have formalised this arrangement, and I realized that, in a way, I was actually following a kind of “Vineal Equinox”.