Uceline
They call me Uceline. I am the flight of a small flock of birds that set off for faraway lands after the grape harvest, or return in spring after spending the winter basking in the African sun. I leave room for the imagination and for dreams. I had been left at the bottom of the vineyards and my virtues had been forgotten. Uvalino is the name of my grape. It sounds like a pet-name, an endearment, that you’d give a child. As the sun rises, the birds peck at my ripe berries. They have never forgotten just how much I’m worth.
Hard work and research, year after year, have brought me back to splendour among the splendid. I have the remarkable strength of a volcano that is reawakening. I have the intense flavour that comes from ancient soils. Deep roots, leaves thirsty for the sun, bunches that ripen when autumn turns to winter and the mists veil the deep red of the vineyards.
I feel no pride, only the certainty of being able to conquer those who understand my history. The stories told by the elderly and their memories have helped. The ability of youngsters and their new knowledge have helped to discover that I am good for you and that I speak to the heart. I have a component, present in great quantities than in other red wines, which, in days gone by, would have been described as a magic potion. Its name is hard to remember: resveratrol, and scientists say that it “cleans” the blood.
Here I am, ready to prove it.