Malvs Nobile 1942 2018

I've been sniffing my skin for days, spraying my wrist right, left. Then again back of the hand, elbow, press nose deep into the pores....
But the Malvs lets me hang with growing enthusiasm and beginning love and remains silent.

Today my path finally begins with him and he whispers images into my ear; landscapes arise before my eyes. On a very early day my feet carry me out, across the wide meadows at the end of which are hedges, bushes and trees. The world still lies still quiet, occasionally an animal rustles, a bird rises into the first light.

The air is fresh, cold and clear, slightly smoky, fog is still hanging in the grass and I am glad to have chosen sturdy and above all waterproof shoes.
Apple trees stand in the distance; the harvest has begun.
There's a trail of pepper in the air.

I prefer to go these steps alone, without disturbing fire by human voices, mobile phone ringing or worse still engine noise.
This silence is one of the few gas stations for my soul. It gives me the softest dry sweetness on my inner restlessness, minimal balsamic-creamy, warms and soothes. Nothing makes noise and screams, whips and pushes.

The path leads back into the house, to the fireplace.
A quiet crackling and crackling fireplace welcomes me; grounded again, healed with much joy and desire for romantic cosy hours.