A converse scene, the tranquil beast stands perfectly still beneath the falling snow. Beauty and power, a solitary bison, in one of the last remaining vestiges of the untouched American frontier, and a steaming volcanic wonderland, Yellowstone. Snowflakes collecting about its muzzle melt with each exhaled breath, like white pepper sprinkled on its cinnamon dark wool. The beast has the grit of ground acorn and is as gruff as camphor bark. Patiently it waits for warmer weather to come, for the blooming of lilac and lavender, for violet and trillium. Let your mouth water in anticipation of boysenberry, blueberry, meat and iodine, the slightly bloody beef of a spiced roast, jasmine tea, pumpkin and black cherry. This beast is more than it seems. Shifting its weight, it pivots and retreats, like a coy fish disappearing among lily pads, behind a sparkling white screen a previously unseen frozen drift. Will it reappear, was the stately beast ever really there?
notes by: Clay Selkirk, winemaker & all-around cowboy