Τρύγος time – vendange, grape harvest. Despite the prosaic, utilitarian and unglamorous accessories, the concrete treading tanks, battered crates and plastic barrels, it’s still nature at its most beautiful and bountiful. Τρύγος is a wagon weighed down with mounds of dusty green grapes, swaying, homing, into the sunset. The purple spurt of the first μόυστοσ, the raw sweet grape juice. The terse greeting shouted from one farmer to another: “Τρύγησες?” “Πάτησες?” Have you picked (your grapes)? Have you trodden (them)? Mellow fruitfulness, the sweetest time of the year.