Deborah Kade
- 1 day ago
- 4 min read

The vineyards in Spiez

Today we decided to spend the day walking through the vineyards in Spiez. This was the first year we actually got to see the grapes separated from the stems at the castle.

Blauburgunder is used to make pinot noir.

There was a Spizer employee at the vineyard and I asked what the white stuff on the grapes was. She told us it was potassium carbonate. It is a natural ingredient! The grapes are sprayed with a desiccant spray (2% solution of potassium carbonate in water and something else).

While I walked the vineyard, Michael sat on the bench and read his book off the phone. Interesting how "Kade" can be a first and last name.

I did not see the sign that told the name of this grape.

Every time I pass this huge chestnut tree, I have to recite part of the poem, The Village Blacksmith, which was published in 1840 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The poem has the famous opening lines, "Under a spreading chestnut tree, The village smithy stands". The poem was required reading for several generations of American school children.

The poem describes a local blacksmith and his daily life. The blacksmith serves as a role model who balances his job with the role he plays with his family and community. Years after its publication, a tree mentioned in the poem was cut down and part of it was made into an armchair which was then presented to Longfellow by local schoolchildren.

Longfellow said the poem was a tribute to his ancestor, Stephen Longfellow, who had been a blacksmith, a schoolmaster, and then a town clerk.

Under a spreading chestnut tree

The village smithy stands;

The smith, a mighty man is he,

With large and sinewy hands;

And the muscles of his brawny arms

Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,

His face is like the tan:

His brow is wet with honest sweat,

He earns whate'er he can,

And looks the whole world in the face,

For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,

You can hear his bellows blow;

You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,

With measured beat and slow,

Like a sexton ringing the village bell,

When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school

Look in at the open door;

They love to see the flaming forge,

And hear the bellows roar,

And catch the burning sparks that fly

Like chaff from a threshing floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,

And sits among his boys;

He hear the parson pray and preach,

He hears his daughter's voice,

Singing in the village choir,

And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,

Singing in Paradise!

He needs must think of her once more,

How in the grave she lies;

And with his hard, rough hand he wipes

A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing,

Onwards through life he goes;

Each morning sees some task begin,

Each evening sees it close;

Something attempted, something done,

Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,

For the lesson thou hast taught!

Thus at the flaming forge of life

Our fortunes must be wrought;

Thus on its sounding anvil shaped

Each burning deed and thought!

This is such a beautiful large chestnut tree.

So many different flowers to take pictures of.

They have just started replacing summer flowers with Fall flowers such as mums.

They must have had the wine festival parade on Sunday as the floral displays are still hanging on the poles.

In past years, this floral display always said Spiez. Not sure what language it is now. Any guesses?

An energetic hummingbird moth was flitting all the around the flowers.

This apple tree had more fruit than leaves.

Passed by a new store that made homemade soap. Unique designs, too!

Michael and I could not figure out how to play this game.

Looked like they were starting "the crush".

The weight of the barrel with the grapes.

This room is underneath the castle.

Removing the grapes from the stems.

Love to read the informational boards around the vineyard.

Walked down to the lake.

We had about 15 minutes before the boat arrived. That's enough time for ice cream!

Of course, Michael shouldn't have ice cream, but he had the two scoop: salted caramel and vanilla with chocolate bits. I did finish most of his caramel reminding him he shouldn't have had two scoops.