Summer arrived silently, bringing with it a rhythm neither of them had known they could sustain. Since the transition occurred so slowly, they might have missed it entirely if it weren't for the subtle changes that were evident in the landscape every morning—the way the morning mist lingered shorter, the way the sun rose higher and stayed longer, the way the earth itself seemed to exhale warmth rather than simply accept it.
With the same steady patience, the days went by, and the vines outside their windows grew stretched and ripened under the abundant sun that had been their constant companion. It was almost miraculous how consistently it happened, with each morning bringing small promises that were fulfilled at nightfall. The vineyard had evolved into their compass calendar and clock, p
