Top Notes 
Saffron
Heart Notes 
Frankincense
Jasmine
Base Notes 
Ambergris
Leather
Floyd
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Floyd
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17
Amber Moon Landscape of Leather
Before my eyes, the color in the bottle, I see the saffron sinking in, far too quickly the warm orange, and already the sweet sun has vanished. Initially lost and fascinated, I hastily navigate through patches of patina and darkness, sharpening the scent of my grim gaze on a lightless landscape of leather.
Old and rugged and bitterly black-tanned, the area sharply separates from the evening, and before the gray amber moon rises, other aromas come into play, blooming crocus flowers as if the sun had just set in them on a meadow of jasmine, sensually sweet yet trapped in leather.
As the amber unfolds after thirty minutes, it reflects a bittersweet dew on the leather, standing gray like a smoldering star at its zenith, drawing moon-colored lakes in gloomy valleys, clouds of incense drifting through the land, Arabic sweet and balsamic, as the flowers from the meadows fade away, already dissipating after an hour, and what remains is truly fantastic: For numerous further quieter hours, the moon casts the evening saffron downwards, broken from the amber into dark resins, which have crawled over the leather for so long until the lakes reflect a dark brown and the black nuances freeze in the morning.
(With thanks to Yatagan)
Old and rugged and bitterly black-tanned, the area sharply separates from the evening, and before the gray amber moon rises, other aromas come into play, blooming crocus flowers as if the sun had just set in them on a meadow of jasmine, sensually sweet yet trapped in leather.
As the amber unfolds after thirty minutes, it reflects a bittersweet dew on the leather, standing gray like a smoldering star at its zenith, drawing moon-colored lakes in gloomy valleys, clouds of incense drifting through the land, Arabic sweet and balsamic, as the flowers from the meadows fade away, already dissipating after an hour, and what remains is truly fantastic: For numerous further quieter hours, the moon casts the evening saffron downwards, broken from the amber into dark resins, which have crawled over the leather for so long until the lakes reflect a dark brown and the black nuances freeze in the morning.
(With thanks to Yatagan)
Updated on 01/24/2020
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