Blossoms
Spices
Kaschima
27 Reviews
Translated · Show original
Kaschima
7
Luxury Love! (But don't take off right away!)
Like old school friends, the two sit under the sprawling branches of a plane tree, enjoying a creamy 'Clam Chowder' at their usual spot. They don’t notice it; it has always been there. Their fathers and mothers have sat there, probably even their fathers' fathers... when this was still the "Cliff Lawn" of Newport. Now, a daily polished brass plaque gleams with "The Chanler at Cliff Walk - Hotel & Resort" next to the entrance, beneath a column-supported porch. The maître of the "Spiced Pear" didn’t even try to remind them of the Private Dining Room, and of course, only for them was a meal prepared that isn’t on the menu.
Intimately nestled in the park-like garden, with a view all the way to the sea, in the midst of Indian Summer, she has returned to visit her friend who stayed here while she went off for her career to Rome, Johannesburg, and later Paris. They are the only guests outside, the waiter is there just for them, yet they hardly notice him. The exchange about the many years they haven’t seen each other is too exciting. Dreams from their youth cross the heavy cast-iron table. "Two 'Spiced Pear Martinis', please!" A giggle passes back and forth occasionally. Otherwise, the conversation remains so subdued, as if one might disturb someone.
"Look, they’ve added a conservatory! Or have I just never seen it?"
"No, darling, it’s new. They only built it three years ago because guests love the view into the garden, especially in late summer and autumn."
Pastel cashmere twinsets are adjusted at the shoulders, perfect manicured nails briefly visible as the pearl necklace is casually, almost automatically, "centered" again. The conversation flows eloquently. Occasionally, two fingers reach for the one shimmering, teardrop-shaped pearl in the middle.
Luxury starts with pepper! And it lasts. And it also holds the fine, yet loud freesias at bay. The little apple pretends that luxury is healthy, adds a bit of high C, delivers the fruitiness of a fresh compote and familiarity.
A hint of vanilla/heliotrope supports with a warm base, like the extra cushion on the autumn garden chair.
Overall, the spring freesia remains more of a richly composed autumn scent, signaling more the abundance of a harvest already gathered than a fluttery spring flower breeze.
From almost the beginning, the scent seems "grounded," doesn’t want to take off, gives the wearer credibility, body. In the distance, a slightly spicier incense and moderate cedar can already be sensed.
Two 'Cliffhangers' are brought with polite greetings from the bar. Another bottle of water is ordered.
Sweet violets and powdery jasmine now join in, a slightly cooler rose note sets the tone. And again, the now sweeter sound is held by a barely tart teenage note (hibiscus?). The maximum sweetness of the heliotrope limits upwards, while the delicate spicy woods limit downwards. But the pepper extends the "range," the space of the fragrance.
A large rose blossom in a bowl of sandalwood now dominates the scent character, along with a tiny wild cedar bundle and a gnarled, crooked, and at the end, scruffy branch, as if it had been broken directly from an incense tree. Undoubtedly Ikebana, as one would expect from this hotel...
The jackets are brought, soft, cuddly suede wraps warmly around the straight shoulders, taking the chill off the evening breeze. A second martini and a 'French Connection' are ordered. The familiarity from their shared roots of upbringing expands further, laughter now truly comes from the heart.
The fire pit is moved closer and lit, it has gotten late, but 20 years don’t get told quickly. Resinous smoke lingers in the air, but the two are tenderly embraced by their rose.
Still, "he" stands nearby, attentive, awaiting the slightest hand signal.
Elegant bags are picked up, slowly credit cards are drawn from the exquisite wallets: "Let me handle this, darling!"
Arm in arm, they stroll through the lobby towards the front entrance, drawing this delicious hint of full roses and sweet wood behind them.
As he holds the door of the waiting Buick for them, he catches once more that wonderful luxury scent...
Ladies without age, without flaw.
(Vintage version, lasts about 12 hours)
Intimately nestled in the park-like garden, with a view all the way to the sea, in the midst of Indian Summer, she has returned to visit her friend who stayed here while she went off for her career to Rome, Johannesburg, and later Paris. They are the only guests outside, the waiter is there just for them, yet they hardly notice him. The exchange about the many years they haven’t seen each other is too exciting. Dreams from their youth cross the heavy cast-iron table. "Two 'Spiced Pear Martinis', please!" A giggle passes back and forth occasionally. Otherwise, the conversation remains so subdued, as if one might disturb someone.
"Look, they’ve added a conservatory! Or have I just never seen it?"
"No, darling, it’s new. They only built it three years ago because guests love the view into the garden, especially in late summer and autumn."
Pastel cashmere twinsets are adjusted at the shoulders, perfect manicured nails briefly visible as the pearl necklace is casually, almost automatically, "centered" again. The conversation flows eloquently. Occasionally, two fingers reach for the one shimmering, teardrop-shaped pearl in the middle.
Luxury starts with pepper! And it lasts. And it also holds the fine, yet loud freesias at bay. The little apple pretends that luxury is healthy, adds a bit of high C, delivers the fruitiness of a fresh compote and familiarity.
A hint of vanilla/heliotrope supports with a warm base, like the extra cushion on the autumn garden chair.
Overall, the spring freesia remains more of a richly composed autumn scent, signaling more the abundance of a harvest already gathered than a fluttery spring flower breeze.
From almost the beginning, the scent seems "grounded," doesn’t want to take off, gives the wearer credibility, body. In the distance, a slightly spicier incense and moderate cedar can already be sensed.
Two 'Cliffhangers' are brought with polite greetings from the bar. Another bottle of water is ordered.
Sweet violets and powdery jasmine now join in, a slightly cooler rose note sets the tone. And again, the now sweeter sound is held by a barely tart teenage note (hibiscus?). The maximum sweetness of the heliotrope limits upwards, while the delicate spicy woods limit downwards. But the pepper extends the "range," the space of the fragrance.
A large rose blossom in a bowl of sandalwood now dominates the scent character, along with a tiny wild cedar bundle and a gnarled, crooked, and at the end, scruffy branch, as if it had been broken directly from an incense tree. Undoubtedly Ikebana, as one would expect from this hotel...
The jackets are brought, soft, cuddly suede wraps warmly around the straight shoulders, taking the chill off the evening breeze. A second martini and a 'French Connection' are ordered. The familiarity from their shared roots of upbringing expands further, laughter now truly comes from the heart.
The fire pit is moved closer and lit, it has gotten late, but 20 years don’t get told quickly. Resinous smoke lingers in the air, but the two are tenderly embraced by their rose.
Still, "he" stands nearby, attentive, awaiting the slightest hand signal.
Elegant bags are picked up, slowly credit cards are drawn from the exquisite wallets: "Let me handle this, darling!"
Arm in arm, they stroll through the lobby towards the front entrance, drawing this delicious hint of full roses and sweet wood behind them.
As he holds the door of the waiting Buick for them, he catches once more that wonderful luxury scent...
Ladies without age, without flaw.
(Vintage version, lasts about 12 hours)
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Summerlove71
