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08/02/2021
Serenissima
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Serenissima
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14
sometimes you don't need much
The day was warm; the sun was blazing once again, making us long for the cooler evening.
At last the time had come:
The twilight did not yet bring a longed-for cooling, for that the old thick walls were too glowed through; they still gave off a great deal of heat. But the glaring power of the sun had abated.
We met, as so often in the past few days, in the garden pavilion, which was overgrown with jasmine.
This large-flowered fellow was now awakening to its full beauty, exuding its intense white-flowered fragrance, which we all loved so much, and which here was mixed with a hint of neroli and sensual vanilla.
The simple wooden furniture was already waiting for us; not particularly ornate, but sturdily crafted, the cedar wood that seemed so silky still radiated its very own spicy aroma, which united with that of the jasmine and its companions.
Thick colorful pillows lay at the ready, and the almost eagerly awaited coffee tray arrived.
Just as classically chiseled as the large brass pot that held the strong fragrant mocha.
In addition to the small cups and water glasses, we also found small porcelain bowls.
Freshly quartered pears, sprinkled with pink pepper (unfortunately, probably a fashion phenomenon) and delicate pralines were offered.
Of course, the large jug of fresh cool water was not to be missed.
Thus, the end of the day can be enjoyed in the evening silence of the large garden on the outskirts of the city, in which here and there already nightingales let their voices resound.
This pleasant aroma of flowers, wood, ripe fruit and rich chocolate, overlaid with the scent of strong mocha, floats around relaxing and at the same time awakening the senses.
"Sultane Parfum Fatale" by Jeanne Arthes draws this fragrant still life that fits so well at the end of a hectic day and makes one smile softly.
Nothing here is loud and intrusive, everything finely tuned to each other.
A pleasant gourmand fragrance develops, which does not take itself so importantly and rather radiates comfort, instead of expecting attention.
Beautiful in a time in which many play themselves into the foreground and always have to be even louder than the others already are.
Alone therefore "Sultane Parfum Fatale" has earned a comment here; certainly less noticed than the umpteenth statement on other highly acclaimed fragrances here, where I have long lost track.
But as Serafina said years ago, as we sat comfortably with a glass of wine?
"Every fragrance deserves a comment!"
She is right!
At last the time had come:
The twilight did not yet bring a longed-for cooling, for that the old thick walls were too glowed through; they still gave off a great deal of heat. But the glaring power of the sun had abated.
We met, as so often in the past few days, in the garden pavilion, which was overgrown with jasmine.
This large-flowered fellow was now awakening to its full beauty, exuding its intense white-flowered fragrance, which we all loved so much, and which here was mixed with a hint of neroli and sensual vanilla.
The simple wooden furniture was already waiting for us; not particularly ornate, but sturdily crafted, the cedar wood that seemed so silky still radiated its very own spicy aroma, which united with that of the jasmine and its companions.
Thick colorful pillows lay at the ready, and the almost eagerly awaited coffee tray arrived.
Just as classically chiseled as the large brass pot that held the strong fragrant mocha.
In addition to the small cups and water glasses, we also found small porcelain bowls.
Freshly quartered pears, sprinkled with pink pepper (unfortunately, probably a fashion phenomenon) and delicate pralines were offered.
Of course, the large jug of fresh cool water was not to be missed.
Thus, the end of the day can be enjoyed in the evening silence of the large garden on the outskirts of the city, in which here and there already nightingales let their voices resound.
This pleasant aroma of flowers, wood, ripe fruit and rich chocolate, overlaid with the scent of strong mocha, floats around relaxing and at the same time awakening the senses.
"Sultane Parfum Fatale" by Jeanne Arthes draws this fragrant still life that fits so well at the end of a hectic day and makes one smile softly.
Nothing here is loud and intrusive, everything finely tuned to each other.
A pleasant gourmand fragrance develops, which does not take itself so importantly and rather radiates comfort, instead of expecting attention.
Beautiful in a time in which many play themselves into the foreground and always have to be even louder than the others already are.
Alone therefore "Sultane Parfum Fatale" has earned a comment here; certainly less noticed than the umpteenth statement on other highly acclaimed fragrances here, where I have long lost track.
But as Serafina said years ago, as we sat comfortably with a glass of wine?
"Every fragrance deserves a comment!"
She is right!
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