08/11/2026
August moves swiftly in Loudoun. Despite the relative dryness of late summer, the fertile soil, charged with water from afternoon storms, provides an exhausting abundance of green growth. Everything in sight is flourishing. Crown vetch and switchgrass choke fences, dots of chicory and black-eye Susan push blue and gold in ditches, and creeper clogs string trimmers trying to regain portions of yards lost to the incessant Virginia growth.
Canopies in the woods, in yards, in our vineyards, everywhere, are thick with dark green. Everyone with a mower wishes the grass would stop. Virginia is stunning in August.
Vine growth, however, is counter to its surroundings. Veraison began in late July; its “official” date varies vineyard to vineyard, block to block, varietal to varietal. This year it’s earlier and later than normal – earlier in unfrosted, primary clusters, later in secondaries. We are roughly 200 GDDs (~8 days) ahead of schedule, although frost-damaged blocks are equally far behind. Most harvests are particular; this one will be downright strange.
The intense labor of spring and summer is coming to a close. We have touch-ups to do, but the vintage’s fate is now in the hands of the sun and clouds. If Mother Nature listens, she’ll bring clear days, limited rainfall, and moderate temperatures. Growers talk about being “owed” a good vintage. After the frost, after the tiny yields of 2025, that belief feels slightly less illogical than usual.
Despite the unpredictability of farming, there’s still a loneliness to the feeling. Maybe because modern communities include so few farmers. Maybe because when it comes to Man vs Nature, we know who’s going to win. It is something we bear alone.
“Farming is a silent gamble with the sky.” – E.B. White
I love this time of year. I love the moment in the season when we hand the reins of ripening to the weather. Soon we’ll be raising bird nets and pulling fruit samples. Soon we’ll be tasting fruit that’s almost ready. Soon we’ll be managing ferments. I’d be lost if, year after year, I couldn’t look forward to harvest with an excited, cautious optimism.
-Nate Walsh
