You weren’t invited to the garden party, but that hasn’t stopped you from watching. The pink glow of sunset in a glass, condensation sliding down the bottle, someone’s laughter carried by the breeze—it’s all happening just beyond the hedge.
The wine itself is pale and pretty, like it knows it’s being watched. Strawberries, peach skin, and watermelon rinds drift up from the glass, casual as a bikini top flung on a lawn chair. On your tongue, it’s light, zesty, and a little flirty. Not deep, but who said this was about depth?
You imagine what they’re eating: cold roast chicken with your fingers, watermelon slices over paper plates, olives plucked from the jar without shame. You sip along quietly, hidden—but the wine sees you. And it doesn’t mind.
Region: Provence, France Grapes: Grenache, Cinsault, Syrah
