Oxidation is a word we hear often in wine circles, usually as a warning. A bottle left open too long, perhaps overnight in the fridge, can take on a flattened, overripe note. We imagine browning color or something gone off. But oxygen is life. It is what we breathe, what shapes the air and water around us, and what moves through us.

For Les Frères Soulier, brothers Charles and Guillaume, the story of oxygen means something else. After years living abroad, they returned to their family’s vineyards in the Gard to reclaim and reimagine the land. They broke with convention. No more tilling, no more bare earth. Instead, they planted fruit trees among the vines, inviting biodiversity back into the fields. Today their ten hectares form a living mosaic of vines, olive trees, and fruit trees growing together. Vines climb the trees, stretching upward toward the sun.

In a region dominated by red wine, the brothers often choose direct pressing or two to three days of skin contact, producing wines that hover between rosé and sometimes even white. This approach sits quietly beside a much older local tradition. Nearby, the Tavel AOC has long been known for deeply colored rosé, wines meant not only for the table but also for aging. Rosé here has never been simple or fleeting.