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There are four cypresses here at Montefili which, when the north wind blows strongly, draw shadows on the ground which run after one another, swaying in a sort of dance accompanied by the whistle of the wind, sometime soft, sometimes high, as it ruffles their fronds. This is how I like to remember my home every time I go away. It's a sweet thought that takes me back to the clear sky of the hot summer days spent awaiting the grape harvest, to moments of peace and quiet during the winter while the wine matures, and to the vineyards which, as they dress in spring and undress in fall, mark the passage of the time.