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MOMENTS
....somewhere, sometime in a lonely house in the country. The apples are harvested and lie fragrant in the attic, herbs dry hanging above.
The day is waning, the great brown mighty Westminster is thoughtfully striking the hour gong, someone is boiling water for the evening tea. Bubbling, the water pours into the pot, steaming fragrant billows spread through the kitchen. The cat lies under the stove and purrs, can it ever be more comfortable?
I sit at the table and look into the wise old woman's watchful eyes. She smiles and looks up from her newspaper. Time for conversation, tea and fruit. She slowly gets up and shuffles to the kitchen dresser, this very old one with the two side pieces that have little windows in them and the spice drawers made of heavy glass. In the middle big drawers for all kinds of things.
(You probably remember them too, those old farmhouse kitchen cabinets...)
She gets the oranges and starts peeling them. We talk about the day, the hard field work, the weather, and getting ready for winter. The wind whistles through the windows and we sip our tea. The scent of the oranges mingles with the spices of the kitchen - cloves, allspice and cinnamon mingle with the fruity exhalations of the orange peels. Refreshing and pure comfort at the same time. I can't help but think of the old days, as children we always wanted to smell good, especially at Christmas, but there was no money for perfume... So we squeezed the peels and held them to our clothes, in good light it sometimes looked almost like the spray from a bottle....
The fire crackles in the oven and we prepare some baked apples for the oven. They are cut in half and filled with raisins, cloves, cinnamon and some marzipan. It's going to be a feast....
The scent of the oranges fills the room. It mingles at the same time with the bouquet of flowers still on the heavy wooden table. Jasmine, a bit of chamomile and countless asters.
The old wise woman now fetches some more tangerines and lemons, we peel the fruits together and the surge of this aromatic mixture has manifested itself in my memory until today.
A spray of Orange Magnifica - and I'm back in the farmhouse. Floral neroli, woods and some resin join in and complement this wonderful fruit ensemble.
The wise old woman is no more, but the memory lives and with it Orange Magnifica.
An invigorating, beguiling, refreshing and intriguing fragrance.
It has a place of honor in my collection.
PS: In honor to my grandma
The day is waning, the great brown mighty Westminster is thoughtfully striking the hour gong, someone is boiling water for the evening tea. Bubbling, the water pours into the pot, steaming fragrant billows spread through the kitchen. The cat lies under the stove and purrs, can it ever be more comfortable?
I sit at the table and look into the wise old woman's watchful eyes. She smiles and looks up from her newspaper. Time for conversation, tea and fruit. She slowly gets up and shuffles to the kitchen dresser, this very old one with the two side pieces that have little windows in them and the spice drawers made of heavy glass. In the middle big drawers for all kinds of things.
(You probably remember them too, those old farmhouse kitchen cabinets...)
She gets the oranges and starts peeling them. We talk about the day, the hard field work, the weather, and getting ready for winter. The wind whistles through the windows and we sip our tea. The scent of the oranges mingles with the spices of the kitchen - cloves, allspice and cinnamon mingle with the fruity exhalations of the orange peels. Refreshing and pure comfort at the same time. I can't help but think of the old days, as children we always wanted to smell good, especially at Christmas, but there was no money for perfume... So we squeezed the peels and held them to our clothes, in good light it sometimes looked almost like the spray from a bottle....
The fire crackles in the oven and we prepare some baked apples for the oven. They are cut in half and filled with raisins, cloves, cinnamon and some marzipan. It's going to be a feast....
The scent of the oranges fills the room. It mingles at the same time with the bouquet of flowers still on the heavy wooden table. Jasmine, a bit of chamomile and countless asters.
The old wise woman now fetches some more tangerines and lemons, we peel the fruits together and the surge of this aromatic mixture has manifested itself in my memory until today.
A spray of Orange Magnifica - and I'm back in the farmhouse. Floral neroli, woods and some resin join in and complement this wonderful fruit ensemble.
The wise old woman is no more, but the memory lives and with it Orange Magnifica.
An invigorating, beguiling, refreshing and intriguing fragrance.
It has a place of honor in my collection.
PS: In honor to my grandma
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Nordnase
