That day, I brought a bottle of good wine to a friend’s place.

Not a rare or extravagant one, just a wine I genuinely liked. I liked its patience, the way it fermented slowly through time.

My friend was warm and welcoming. They opened the bottle, then reached into the cupboard for glasses, light, thin plastic cups, their surfaces clouded with fingerprints and water marks.

I didn’t say anything. But inside, there was a soft, quiet ah.

Many people don’t understand why certain things deserve what they call “unnecessary fuss.” It’s not about over-packaging, nor about suffocating levels of service. It’s about whether something is worthy of being treated well.

A good wine glass isn’t for showing off. It exists to be worthy of the labor of fermentation.

We never drink wine just to drink wine. There’s the feel of fingers against the glass, the temperature of the liquid, the crisp sound when glasses gently meet, the rhythm of the pour, the moment your nose is wrapped by the rim, and the aromas unfold layer by layer.

It’s a moment when all the senses arrive together, a quiet invitation to a full-bodied presence.

What a wine glass holds isn’t just wine. It holds the emotion poured into that moment, joy, celebration, gratitude, togetherness.

And yet, we often lose these things in the details.

We forget to bless the wine. And we forget WHY, for this moment, we chose wine instead of water.



—— XC Scribbles · 陸拾壹 LXI 🍷