But the plant and the soil are nothing without the work of the farmer, and this is truer of the vine than of any other crop. It may seem tedious to list all the tasks to which winegrowers are subjected; it is necessary, however, if we want to show that there is hardly a season when they do not have to take to the vineyards, tool in hand.
No sooner is the previous harvest over, amidst the withered leaves, than the plowing begins again to prepare the soil. This soil must be constantly loosened and cleared of weeds: deep digging or plowing in the spring, successive scrapings with a hoe (a wide-bladed, short-handled pick), a two-pronged hoe, or a scraper. Often, at the bottom of steep slopes eroded by water, the soil is hauled up with a basket. Some of these tasks are now simplified; the small vineyard plow eases the winegrower's burden.
In this prepared soil, the vine must be constantly guided. As soon as the first rays of a still pale sun announce spring, the vine is pruned to remove dead wood and prepare for the next growth. Pruning is either short, leaving only two or three buds (eyes) on each shoot, or long, depending on the vigor of the vine. Moreover, pruning methods are extremely varied; each winegrower has their preferences and adapts them according to the soil, the vines, and the desired result. Pinot Noir vines are generally pruned in a "goblet" shape, with arms more or less widely spaced; but often a mixed pruning method is also used, with shoots of unequal lengths.
In the past, when pruning Pinot Noir vines, only one cane, the tallest, was kept; the vines thus grew longer year after year, reaching up to 1.5 meters, and the older vines were considered to produce the best wines. This system led to the premature aging of the vine, which then had to be rejuvenated by layering; it has been completely abandoned since the phylloxera epidemic.
Spring was also the time when the stakes (the paiseaux) were replanted, having been removed before winter; today, in most vineyards, each row of vines is trained along taut wires, eliminating the need for this care. The branches must be carefully tied to these stakes or wires as they grow, secured with willow twigs, rye straw, or, nowadays, rushes. But the vine, if too vigorous, risks growing entirely covered in leaves if it is not pruned from time to time, if all the unwanted buds are not removed by a process of trimming.
All this work has always been necessary for anyone wanting to bring grapes to the earth, and these were hardships willingly endured. People are less resigned to the new vexations brought about by vine diseases. Downy mildew, favored by damp weather, must be combated with sprays of copper-based solutions. A daunting and dangerous task, where clothing and face become saturated with a bluish, poisonous liquid, while the man, with the heavy tank on his back, pumps tirelessly and directs the spray alternately to the right and left. It is true that today the rows of vines are often more spaced out: a mule carries the sprayer from which the jets of copper sulfate gush forth; but this does not prevent the man from preparing, handling, and directing the spray, immersed in this noxious atmosphere. And the operation must be repeated three or four times, or even more. Against powdery mildew, which is especially troublesome after mild winters, one must sprinkle with sulfur as often as needed; treatments with arsenates and nicotine against insects, particularly the grape berry moth, should also be added. How fortunate the winegrowers would be, if all these remedies were sufficient! But one can never be entirely certain of having applied them at the right time.
The last task is the grape harvest. In the past, it only began on a date set by the local authority; the official harvest proclamation also specified the date from which gleaning was permitted to the poor. The diversity of grape varieties today no longer allows for such rigid rules; everyone harvests as they see fit; but this is not always without drawbacks, and there are sometimes calls for the reinstatement of the official harvest proclamation.
This grape harvest has been celebrated enough by poets that there is no need to commemorate its symbolism, to describe the precise and moving act of picking, or to recount the boisterous joys that accompany it. We are less aware of the labor it represents. There is only joy in picking the golden bunches in the autumn sun; but we must also mention the long periods spent crouching in the sticky mud, the misty mornings when leaves glistening with dew wet arms up to the shoulders, the hunt for grapes that fingers numb with cold pursue between clods of earth, the heavy baskets that women lift with difficulty, while they drag themselves along, stumbling, misshapen shoes caked in mud. And the feverish haste of threatening days when rain threatens to interrupt the entire harvest! And the years of desolation where one picks here and there a few scattered bunches while thinking of all the labors that will not have obtained their reward!