My career in wine is all but over. A handful of industry friends stay in touch. But I no longer live or work in that world.

Despite my new outsider status as a wine lover and wine tourist, it would be next to impossible not to be aware of the Italy’s 2026 “shit harvest,” as some trade observers have called it. Between oppressive heat and unrelenting drought, many growers are facing an existential crisis, especially the small farmers.

With the current disastrous situation in mind, I found it all the more moving to read a post by one of those winemakers I still follow (she and I became friends over classical music not wine).

She had just read the “umpteenth” post describing the wine world in catastrophic terms.

“There’s drought. There’s hot weather, too,” she writes.

The plants suffer and the show it. Denying this would be stupid.

But between talking about a difficult situation and continuously fueling a sense of alarm, I believe there’s something important to consider: the weight and responsibility of words.

My family has been growing grapes for generations. And despite this, I continue to think that don’t have the sufficient science to draw conclusions about phenomena so complex. I am surprised by the ease with which diagnosis and judgement are dispensed from all sides.

I can’t help but wonder: what purpose does it serve?

…

Behind the scenes of a difficult harvest, there aren’t just numbers, forecasts, and analyses. There are farmers who work all year. And during the harvest months, they try to do the best they can with what they have.

People don’t need to be told how hard it is. They already know.

Reading her words, I was reminded of why I and so many other people find the wine world so compelling. It puts us back in touch with the earth, the seasons, and our bodies’ often strained relation to the natural world. It can also be a window into the wisdom of the ancients. But most of all it humbles us: we realize that there are forces around us that we may never be able to explain. Maybe that’s the magic of it.

The “responsibility of words.” A notion to which we can aspire in wine and beyond. Thank you, Valentina.