Possible Memoir Introduction

Deep music strummed with the songs of earth as she wove slowly into wine country. Approaching large iron gates her whole life began reviving itself before her due to the vitality of the vines. Rich and reaching upward, the rows and rows of foliage were newly green, growing leaves that had never been, all the while reaching downward, into deep ground, firmly rooted in past.

She passed signs that marked varietals, informing the uninitiated of the histroy:

Pinot Noir
Willamette Valley Vineyards
Dijon Colony 777,667
Grafted in 1999

"That is too recent" she mused, half expecting so lovely a hillside to read 1846.

Yet it said 1999. Oh 1999, the year that once held nineteen. A year when memoirs were not a thing to think about because one was so drunk on living the very moments or dreaming warily of future ones.

Here was wine country. The lushness was intoxicating enough. The vows she would watch exchange were so full of promise. They would be full of the promise and potential that nineteen had been for her. With this remembrance she realized that perhaps 1999 was not so recent, not so recent at all...