It sat on the counter.
Unopened.
Unhurried.
Listening to the rain hammer the roof.
And the wind shake the windows.
All evening the storm roared.
Loud.
Restless.
Untamed.
But storms don’t last.
They break.
They soften.
They slip away into silence.
And when the house finally stilled.
When the last raindrop tapped its farewell.
The bottle felt ready.
You reached for it.
Not out of celebration.
But out of relief.
A soft exhale poured into glass form.
The first sip tasted like calm returning.
Like breath finding its rhythm again.
Like the world remembering.
How to be gentle.
When Stillness Invites the Pour:
Some wines aren’t meant for chaos.
They wait for the world to settle.
For the storm to pass.
For the heart to unclench.
These bottles hold a different kind of comfort.
One born from contrast.
From weathering.
From surviving the noise.
Wine knows the value of a quiet room.
And so do you.
The Taste of a World Made New Again:
There is beauty in the moments.
That follow the storm.
The air is clearer.
The earth is softer.
And you.
You are steadier.
This pour wasn’t about the rain.
It was about the peace that followed.
That warm reminder.
That light always finds its way back.
Your Turn
Have you ever poured a glass the moment everything finally fell quiet?
Share it or drop a 🌧️ if the calm after a storm has ever made your wine taste different.
Cheers🍷