You don’t appreciate wine when you are young.
You can talk of it, smell it and look at the shapes in the glass.
Redder than water, stronger than blood.
You think you know what it must taste like, and you are sure you would not enjoy it.
When you come of age, you taste wine. I mean really taste it. Point of no return.
You realise you love what it does to your senses.
It follows your emotions and raises them.
It blesses you.
Even the humble house-wine deserves appreciation.
You feel you must not say you appreciate it, lest you are labelled weak, supercilious or an over-drinker.
It’s a bit like appreciating your parents.