Vines in winter, hope in spring

 

Winter vines are, I think, perhaps even more dramatic than their summer versions! Only in winter can you appreciate what lies beneath the greenery: gnarled, twisting trunks and branches, perhaps sparsely garnished with a few crimson leaves. It is the period of hibernation, of gathering strength before the warming temperatures and increasing light of spring cause the plants to burst once more into green abundance. For Fili, heroine of The Case Against Fili Du Bois, winter was special, too, but also unsettling as it raised issues and emotions she would have preferred to avoid. 

Our vines turned dark-red against the resting earth. Gum trees swayed in the gales. The swallows flew north. For me, the thrashing trees brought a chilly anxiety, a sense of foreboding. Dead leaves eddied about my feet as if trying to warn me of something I couldn't yet know...  

And Fili was right. Despite embracing her new family and community, and securing her future - or so she thought - a tragedy takes place on the wine farm and Fili is accused of a crime. Will she be able to prove her innocence?
The police investigate. The medical evidence is sifted, and her family and friends wait for clarity. The season changes, the vines turn lush with new tendrils and the first trusses of grapes. Yet beneath the greenery, the truth twists and turns like the gnarled trunks of winter.

For how long will I live in this limbo of being neither guilty - nor innocent? 
Years pass. Memories fade. Life goes on. And yet...  
Every five years or so, an investigative reporter in search of a scoop sifts through the evidence - and the conjecture - and produces a new theory.
I give no interviews and admit no public or private suspicions, or the truth...