pause

Every time we saw something pretty from the car as we rolled down dirt roads and over gravel and rocks, Staley, Jess, and I - all squished together in the backseat, would yell, "Pause!" until Zander came to a screeching halt - all of us thrown forward then back. I'd roll down the window and stick my camera out to capture the scene, Zan accelerating and breaking, stop-and-go, Jess retorting, "Now back an inch! You missed it - forward an inch!" And the pictures were so bad - a fence was always in the way, or shrubbery through which, far beyond, we could catch a glimpse of the mountains. Or, as Brian, from Wyoming scoffed, "More like foothills!"

At Stone Tower Winery, we were tipsier from our laughter - that point you get to when no matter what anyone says, clever or completely mundane, it's hysterical. That rhythm, that banter, it's the stuff. It's the bee's knees. It's addictive. And as our taster finished our tasting, she teased us with the soon-to-be-released 2013 Rose. She brought out the bottle, but no! She couldn't open it for us to taste; it's for members only. Zan and I bolted to the front of the tasting room, nearly tripping over each other, grabbing a membership form, and battling over whose name would be on it. Our spanking new membership came with not one tasting but five of that Rose, and three bottles of it to go.

It was the best Rose, the best wine, any of us have ever tasted. It was the taste of exclusivity, and the taste of rays of sun warming the breeze, and the taste of a perfect day spent celebrating a birthday to remember.

Pause.