Escaping the world for grapes

One the light mist of icy sadness has fallen apon you in August, you realize just how much you really need to fucking go somewhere. Escape. So for now, I've decided to turn invisible, and drift myself on to Hammondsport, NY. Ah, an hour from home, the beautiful country side, and the heart of wine country. Wine? Yes, I said wine. What's made out of wine? Grapes. YES! GRAPES.
Leaving this message for all to read, don't expect to see me. For I intend to be lazily floating among the straight, refined rows of grapes, finding something or other. Or eating. Yeah, I guess you could say I'll do both. Expect pictures, oh dear blog of mine, because Keuka Lake can sure make some pretty pictures.

' The wind picked up, the fire spread.
The grapevine singing, left for dead.
The northern sky looked like the end of days, end of days.'
{Grapevine Fires, Death Cab For Cutie}