L'Heure Bleue Guerlain Eau de Parfum

Cannes, summer night on Rue de Suquet. It’s late and the narrow street, where practically every house hosts a small restaurant, is slowly emptying. As I hurriedly ascend Rue de Suquet towards my hotel, a cloud of fragrance hits me like a bolt from the blue. I instantly realized it must be L'Heure Bleue. I look to my right and see a young woman sitting alone at a table with a male companion. My expression was obviously one of rapturous delight as she looked directly and intensely into my eyes. What a picture, what a scene - this dramatically dreamy, romantic scent that is both cool and warm, so richly layered with strong contrasts - Heliotrope, Anise, Orange Blossom, Clove, the Guerlinade, and the animalic undertones create a total work of art.
L'Heure Bleue must be my MOST BEAUTIFUL perfume of all time and was also the only Guerlain classic that I fell in love with at first sniff. I can still vividly recall the scene in my mind - in which perfumery I first tested the EdT on a test strip and then on my skin in the sunshine.
I love the older EdP from the black-and-gold era because it possesses full drama (the Tchaikovsky of the perfume world?) and focuses on the floral notes. The extrait from the 1990s and early 2000s is perfectly preserved (with good storage) and has lost none of its beauty due to the later reformulation. To get a comprehensive picture of L'Heure Bleue over the decades, one must have smelled the heavy musk base embedded in this dramatic floral bouquet of a well-preserved vintage extrait.
L'Heure Bleue - the hour after sunset until darkness. Another day comes to an end! Life consists of small farewells, moments that become 'immortal' only through one’s own memory and feelings. L'Heure Bleue is for me that contemplative moment, a bit melancholic due to the fact, yet romantically dreamy, indulging in this memory and the awareness that tomorrow the sun will rise again.
One last image that perfectly describes the aura of L'Heure Bleue for me: A biting cold winter night, the street is deserted and the thin layer of powdery snow crunches underfoot. The moonlight and the old-fashioned streetlamp make the snow crystals sparkle like stars, a gentle breeze makes it clear why the warming collar is pulled up high. The soft material hugs the neck and from the warm chest rises a perfectly contrasted scent. This fresh, clear winter air and L'Heure Bleue...
Have you experienced L'Heure Bleue yet? Felt it?