Looking back, the 2024 vintage will remain one of the hardest seasons of my life, and not because of the elements or the fruit.
We began walking vineyards in January, full of hope. The vines looked strong, the season was shaping up beautifully, and we were excited about the year ahead. Our goals were clear: to craft wines and elevate our Grenache and Roussanne to another level.
But by late February, everything changed. My brother passed away, and just thirteen days later, we lost our father too.
Three days before he passed, Dad sat outside our winery, watching us crush fruit. I saw a look on his face I’ll never forget, a quiet satisfaction, watching us do what we love. That moment will stay with me forever.
As many in the industry know, vintage doesn’t pause. There’s no time to stop, no room for grief to take hold. There are dozens of decisions to make, timing is everything, and focus is essential.
In a way, vintage saved me. It kept me moving through a time when I could’ve easily fallen apart. This vintage became more than just a harvest; it became a tether to purpose, to resilience, and to the memory of those we lost.
And somehow, through the noise and the ache, we made the most pristine, elegant, and balanced wines we’ve ever produced. Every decision, every moment, seemed to guide us toward something remarkable.
These wines carry more than terroir; they carry time, emotion, and the spirit of those no longer with us. We are deeply proud of them. And we hope, as you open each bottle, you taste not only the vintage but the heart behind it.
— Susan Papps