In May
I enjoy the “growing months,” May in particular, because they offer the promise of the future, while still holding on to remnants of the past. Nature seems to be cautiously optimistic, but also suggesting the work yet to be done, a feeling that was captured elegantly by Welsh writer William Henry Davies in his “In May” poem, an excerpt of which follows:
“Yes, I will spend the livelong day
with Nature in this month of May;
and sit beneath the trees, and share
my bread with birds whose homes are
there;
while cows lie down to eat, and sheep
stand to their necks in grass so deep;
while birds do sing with all their might,
as though they felt the earth in flight.”
May is also like a rum that’s only been barreled for a few months: it shows the promise of what maturation could do, while still holding on to its youthful freshness and roughness, reminding us of what it is like to be new and vibrant. Distillers are tasked with conjuring up the creatures that will inhabit their spirited landscapes while Cellar Masters design the worlds that will define how those creatures will grow and evolve into specimens worthy of their existence.
For many distilleries, May is not a particularly enjoyable month to visit, since guests may not be able to witness the sugarcane harvest, crushing or the fermentation/distillation of the collected juices. But May is nonetheless a good month to observe the planning and maintenance needed for the rum world to exist harmoniously and effectively.
Regardless of where you live, I hope that you’ll find something inspiring in nature this month, something to remind you of the magical world that is at the foundation of the sugar and rum industries.
Cheers,
Luis Ayala, Editor and Publisher