Verbeene

a subtly soapy, spicy-floral freshness opens: Rose and Jasmine in unsweet, fantastically balanced.
a dense "core information" with a portable, elegant projection.
The small counterpoint is provided by clove, which gives the flowers composure and structure.
The base shimmers earthily through, making the scent creamy and almost thick.... as if you were sitting in the garden in the evening twilight, from afar the roses smell, last rays of sunlight cast gold dots on dark green foliage.
You wear the satin dress, the drapery plays with shadows and shine like in old paintings. Silence. Dignity. Beauty.

She met him in the forest. The bright sunlight dripping through the pine needles painted moving patterns in his white hair. As always before a conversation with him, she was excited.
His eyes, clear, deep, and very calm, like mountain lakes in a rugged landscape, seemed to see more of her than even she knew.
His attention acted on her like a maelstrom that swallowed up everything inane.
She swayed- the silence seemed to deepen.

Then suddenly he raised his eyes. "I bequeath you the forest"

something crumbled into her open hands: earth, tree bark, peace.
"I can't accept this. You know I'm on the road half the year..."

He was silent.
"I bequeath to you the care of this healthy forest. You will need it more than it needs you.
You have no choice."

you meet her by chance in the garden centre: had inattentively bumped into her with your fully packed shopping trolley and wonder at her hearty laugh.
She is unremarkable; dark blonde, medium height, dressed practically as if for a walk in the woods. Under her fingernails you discover fresh earth.
Somehow she smells of fresh air and leaves wet with morning dew. Vegetable leaves.
You didn't know how noble it could smell.
You could steal horses with it. Bake bread. Clean up. Lie in the hay and watch clouds.
Life.
And that would be easy....

She's one for the second look. ...

She walks along the beach, a little too fast and a little too angrily. Unexpectedly, her bare foot hits a pile of seaweed, she slips and falls into the sand.
For a second, she's furious... then a little laugh rolls out of her belly.
grows bigger, gets louder.... and suddenly the seagulls are laughing along, the clouds, the waves...
a waft of floral scent wafts across the water, cool and distinguished, loud enough to reconcile them, quiet enough not to drown out the seaweed and wood.

what an exciting scent; primal marine.... very delicately floral, cool, woody, unsentimental but wonderfully fine-tuned
melts into the warmth of the skin and brings back memories of a grey windy summer day by the sea.

The shy violet hooks up with the juicy mirabelle. On their spring walk through light sandalwood avenues they meet Ylang.
What a trio: fruity-dry-juicy-fresh-citrus-precious. young. attractive.elegant.sparkling.

and as if that wasn't enough, later in the afternoon they are met by a trio of equal beauty:
Rose Peach,Iris
the three are also dry-blossom-radiant-soft-fruit-sun-gold-soaked.
They strike up a conversation.
Should you meet them, you would find yourself stopping with bated breath: so much natural beauty and self-evident elegance.
You wouldn't know which of the six young beauties to choose: so you invite them all.
You will never forget this evening.....