The first time you see it, you don’t think “wine.” You think riverbank in late summer—sunlight catching on the ripples, dragonflies flickering just above the surface. You think of skin warmed by the day, cooled suddenly by a plunge into clear water.
It starts with breath: elderflower drifting past your cheek, a faint thread of lemon zest, the green warmth of mango just before it ripens. Then the body—long, lean, and quietly firm. Acidity taut as a drawn bow, aimed not to pierce but to guide. Opok’s stones speak in whispers: mineral, grounded, unwavering.
And somewhere in that stillness, there’s movement—slow, deliberate, like fingers tracing the line of your spine. A little wildness in the air: crushed herbs underfoot, salt drying on your skin, the taste of something you can’t quite name but don’t want to forget.
The pleasure isn’t rushed. It lingers like the moment after the first kiss, when the world stays hushed and you realise you’ve already leaned in for another. And in that pause, there’s a hunger for the things that match its pace—oysters slick with seawater, chèvre soft enough to collapse under the knife, sardines kissed by flame.
Region: Südsteiermark (Southern Styria), Styria, Austria Grapes: Sauvignon Blanc
