I’d never realized William Wordsworth was a terroirist. A meso-climate man. A bloke keen on the weather and the soil and what that did to wine.
A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears…
Rolled round in earth’s diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.
I thought of this the other day when moderately enjoying the wines of Angullong, from NSW’s Orange region.
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