We have wonderful guests visit us at Youngberg Hill. Many write us wonderful notes on their stay. One guest was particularly poetic in his prose and we wanted to share his note.
The fog hung low in the Valley allowing only the oasis of gree, brown, and ribbon of gray-black to define the muted pastels of our world. Birds are up early in July with chirps and circles to waken the vineyard. Their swooping and fluttering stirred the air so slightly that not even the tendrils of fog that dared to enter this space of peace was disturbed.
The friendly orange cat with the grey blue of hair on one side of its neck came to our window, calling to be let in from the roof. Not knowing how it elevated itself to the roof but feeling if it found a way up, it should know the way down, we let it add its plees to the call from the birds and the bumps and knocks of the house that told us others were up and that the home was once again erupt for a voice filled morning over breakfast downstairs.
Thank you Rick Ramsey.
