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Notes09/07/2019
Serenissima
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Serenissima
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10
Surprise in violet blue
The evening shadows have already reached the wide pergola, which is densely entwined with jasmine.
At this hour between day and dream, the large white flowers open wide, their golden faces stretch towards the last daylight and they exude their intoxicating aroma: generous and without regard for very sensitive noses. They belong in this subheading and clearly show that!
Out of this semi-darkness a woman approaches. She floats through this pergola; she has always floated more than she walked.
Even as a child she didn't rage and run: an elf-like lightness surrounded her even then.
An elf child - a woman, a goddess of the first tender dusk, surrounded by scents and secrets.
Again she wears this dress in the Parma violet blue, which surrounds her with the scent of their flower richness: this was probably already woven in Italy with the fabric.
Her loosely styled hair exudes the citrus fragrance experience that belongs to her: bergamot, lemon and lots of delicate orange blossoms dance around her with every movement. Fresh, with a hint of sun.
This pictures a delightful contrast to the lively, very feminine violet scent that rises from her dress.
Everyone feels: this woman is completely with herself, she lives the moment in her very own way.
The loosely tied bouquet of lily of the valley in her hand also goes well with this.
A total stranger presented it to her in front of the entrance to the pergola with a deep bow and charming words. It would be as sonorous as these little white bells, he smiled, before disappearing into the crowd of people strolling around in their evening clothes.
Thus, the two not quite problem-free, always somewhat powerful aromas of jasmine and lily of the valley intertwine with the violet, still playing the first scented violin.
A magical, dreamy mood emerges; a smile brightens her face.
It is the face of a woman who does not exactly love the first wrinkles around her eyes, but is willing to live with them.
A mature woman, surrounded by a very special feminine scent, now enters the evening garden at Mirabell Castle.
The castle has long since been deprived of its baroque exterior; it looks like what it is: an administrative building that seems to stand more by chance in this place.
The rose borders that lead to the Pegasus Fountain as the centre of the complex seem to bow before the delicate yet fragrant figure that emerges from the shadow of jasmine: her heavy scent belongs only to this woman, this beginning summer evening.
With a slight tilting of the beautiful head she accepts these fragrance innovations; she smiles, looks around, truncates ...
There at the fountain, in light backlight stands a man, shadows play around his high figure!
Her heart starts dancing, her surprised happy laughter sparkles through the balsamic evening air and she runs; she now runs more than she floats.
Runs towards the beloved, who opens his arms wide for her and embraces her lovingly.
She is surrounded by his unshakeable love and warmth; by musk and the blend of golden amber and spicy sandalwood that belongs to him.
This violet-blue, elf-like woman experiences her own scent fireworks: rich flowers, on a bed of light citrus scent, surrounded by the fine erotic spice of a loving embrace; her own, almost infinite universe of aromas opens here.
His long-lasting embrace, which lets both sink into a romantic swirl of scent, ends in a tender "Émilie"!
At this hour between day and dream, the large white flowers open wide, their golden faces stretch towards the last daylight and they exude their intoxicating aroma: generous and without regard for very sensitive noses. They belong in this subheading and clearly show that!
Out of this semi-darkness a woman approaches. She floats through this pergola; she has always floated more than she walked.
Even as a child she didn't rage and run: an elf-like lightness surrounded her even then.
An elf child - a woman, a goddess of the first tender dusk, surrounded by scents and secrets.
Again she wears this dress in the Parma violet blue, which surrounds her with the scent of their flower richness: this was probably already woven in Italy with the fabric.
Her loosely styled hair exudes the citrus fragrance experience that belongs to her: bergamot, lemon and lots of delicate orange blossoms dance around her with every movement. Fresh, with a hint of sun.
This pictures a delightful contrast to the lively, very feminine violet scent that rises from her dress.
Everyone feels: this woman is completely with herself, she lives the moment in her very own way.
The loosely tied bouquet of lily of the valley in her hand also goes well with this.
A total stranger presented it to her in front of the entrance to the pergola with a deep bow and charming words. It would be as sonorous as these little white bells, he smiled, before disappearing into the crowd of people strolling around in their evening clothes.
Thus, the two not quite problem-free, always somewhat powerful aromas of jasmine and lily of the valley intertwine with the violet, still playing the first scented violin.
A magical, dreamy mood emerges; a smile brightens her face.
It is the face of a woman who does not exactly love the first wrinkles around her eyes, but is willing to live with them.
A mature woman, surrounded by a very special feminine scent, now enters the evening garden at Mirabell Castle.
The castle has long since been deprived of its baroque exterior; it looks like what it is: an administrative building that seems to stand more by chance in this place.
The rose borders that lead to the Pegasus Fountain as the centre of the complex seem to bow before the delicate yet fragrant figure that emerges from the shadow of jasmine: her heavy scent belongs only to this woman, this beginning summer evening.
With a slight tilting of the beautiful head she accepts these fragrance innovations; she smiles, looks around, truncates ...
There at the fountain, in light backlight stands a man, shadows play around his high figure!
Her heart starts dancing, her surprised happy laughter sparkles through the balsamic evening air and she runs; she now runs more than she floats.
Runs towards the beloved, who opens his arms wide for her and embraces her lovingly.
She is surrounded by his unshakeable love and warmth; by musk and the blend of golden amber and spicy sandalwood that belongs to him.
This violet-blue, elf-like woman experiences her own scent fireworks: rich flowers, on a bed of light citrus scent, surrounded by the fine erotic spice of a loving embrace; her own, almost infinite universe of aromas opens here.
His long-lasting embrace, which lets both sink into a romantic swirl of scent, ends in a tender "Émilie"!
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