Top Notes 
Galbanum
Lemon
Petitgrain
Artemisia
Bergamot
Heart Notes 
Clove
Geranium
Lavender
Base Notes 
Amber
Labdanum
Vanilla
Vetiver
Benzoin
Meggi
1018 Reviews
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Meggi
Top Review
40
Sun and Wind
I am in Italy and the bright blue sky colors my thoughts. From the terrace of a small café in Castellammare di Stabia, I gaze far out over the Gulf of Naples. In the distance, water and sky blend together in a gentle shimmer. Now in late spring, it is not too hot yet, but just infinitely pleasantly warm. Numerous scientific studies have shown that for a North German, the temperature of an ideal late spring day in southern Italy is exactly 22.8 degrees Celsius - and that is precisely the value that the thermometer on the wall displays.
Although it may be very early in the day, I am already enjoying the homemade lemon cream. A poem! In exquisite artistry, the finest cream has alleviated the fruit of its acidic peak without sacrificing a single nanogram of aroma. On the contrary: I can almost see the lemon, it looks at me almost erotically seductively, while some dew drops trickle down the skin of its plump, rounded surface. Gently, I spoon out little portions as if to show how slowly I can do it.
The morning flows by and a caressing northwesterly wind now brings a scent that has traveled many kilometers. High above the sea, it has flown along - a hint of lavender from Provence. And it does not matter in the slightest whether this is possible or not, the fragrance is simply there and I enjoy it.
Soon the sun has nearly reached its zenith. The wind has turned a little towards the southwest and brings forth an aroma from even further away, one that some associate with the African, even the Moroccan desert. I close my eyes and am not at all bothered that this too has escaped solely from my imagination.
After several long moments, I sigh inwardly, silently thank MisterE for the sample of the delicious Vetiver Ambrato and 0815abc for the beautiful opening sentence, stand up, put on my coat, leave the office, and step out into a damp, cold Hamburg winter evening.
Although it may be very early in the day, I am already enjoying the homemade lemon cream. A poem! In exquisite artistry, the finest cream has alleviated the fruit of its acidic peak without sacrificing a single nanogram of aroma. On the contrary: I can almost see the lemon, it looks at me almost erotically seductively, while some dew drops trickle down the skin of its plump, rounded surface. Gently, I spoon out little portions as if to show how slowly I can do it.
The morning flows by and a caressing northwesterly wind now brings a scent that has traveled many kilometers. High above the sea, it has flown along - a hint of lavender from Provence. And it does not matter in the slightest whether this is possible or not, the fragrance is simply there and I enjoy it.
Soon the sun has nearly reached its zenith. The wind has turned a little towards the southwest and brings forth an aroma from even further away, one that some associate with the African, even the Moroccan desert. I close my eyes and am not at all bothered that this too has escaped solely from my imagination.
After several long moments, I sigh inwardly, silently thank MisterE for the sample of the delicious Vetiver Ambrato and 0815abc for the beautiful opening sentence, stand up, put on my coat, leave the office, and step out into a damp, cold Hamburg winter evening.
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