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To the Valley
Let’s imagine a summer day, a summer day when I wake up and realize: I am in a small guesthouse. Secluded location! Nature! Vacation!
After breakfast, I take a look around the area. I step outside expectantly. Only a small backpack accompanies me with a water bottle, money, sunglasses, and sunscreen.
It’s still early, but the sun is already in the sky. I inhale the air. What flowers smell so wonderfully bright, light, and friendly here? Could it be freesias? I look around. The small guesthouse has a large, well-designed garden. It’s clear that it was professionally laid out and extends far to the left behind the house. In the foreground, white lilies bloom in front of fresh boxwood. They smell and look wonderful.
I can take a closer look at the garden later when I return, I think, and turn to the small hiking path that begins right at the house. Hardly have I walked a few meters when a sweet and slightly rotten smell enters my nose. I quickly see the cause: a compost heap for garden waste and obviously also for the floral decorations of the guesthouse that need to be disposed of. Here, the initially perceived freesias with their slimy flower water stems are wilting among various other faded flowers and green hedge clippings. I continue on. The scent of the decaying bouquets and their water diminishes.
As I round the next bend, a beautiful view opens up over wide meadows, down which the path winds harmoniously. Cheerfully, I take it. I notice that I am now passing behind the large garden, and once again the scent of flowers rises to my nose, different flowers. But which ones? It actually smells like chrysanthemums. But isn’t it too early in the year for that? No, evidently not. A huge planting of sunny yellow, mustard yellow, lilac, and magenta chrysanthemums shines under the blue sky. Impressive!
Now the path moves away from the garden and winds down through meadows into the valley. The chrysanthemum scent accompanies me for a long time, but I also notice that it is getting increasingly damp down here. I look at my watch: How quickly time passes! I have already been walking for almost an hour.
Around me, it is becoming more and more marshy. On the right and left, I see the typical brown pom-poms of the cattails, and in other places, yellow water lilies are even blooming. Again, a scent of transience rises to my nose, but this time it is different: It is the typical smell of a marshy lake, not earthy-musty or really rotten, but rather that of water plants in predominantly still freshwater.
The sun is now high. I am glad about that. In the evening, there will surely be mosquitoes here.
I take out the sunscreen and apply it to my bare arms and shoulders. I use a different sunscreen for my face. I drink some water and settle down by the lake. It is deserted. From afar, I hear the soft and gentle splashing of a tributary or small stream. Occasionally, something splashes into the water. Are those frogs? I see nothing. It rustles. Small creatures go about their ways again, after I remain so still as if I am no longer there and a gentle breeze brushes my skin. I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander.
Now I have been away for several hours. Not much longer, and I will become hungry. So I decide to turn back. Now it goes slightly uphill. However, I spontaneously take a different path than the way I came. It does not lead me past the garden again, but makes a large loop to arrive back on the other side of the guesthouse. For a long time, I still have the scent of the freshwater and the flora by the pond in my nose, with a hint of my sunscreen.
After breakfast, I take a look around the area. I step outside expectantly. Only a small backpack accompanies me with a water bottle, money, sunglasses, and sunscreen.
It’s still early, but the sun is already in the sky. I inhale the air. What flowers smell so wonderfully bright, light, and friendly here? Could it be freesias? I look around. The small guesthouse has a large, well-designed garden. It’s clear that it was professionally laid out and extends far to the left behind the house. In the foreground, white lilies bloom in front of fresh boxwood. They smell and look wonderful.
I can take a closer look at the garden later when I return, I think, and turn to the small hiking path that begins right at the house. Hardly have I walked a few meters when a sweet and slightly rotten smell enters my nose. I quickly see the cause: a compost heap for garden waste and obviously also for the floral decorations of the guesthouse that need to be disposed of. Here, the initially perceived freesias with their slimy flower water stems are wilting among various other faded flowers and green hedge clippings. I continue on. The scent of the decaying bouquets and their water diminishes.
As I round the next bend, a beautiful view opens up over wide meadows, down which the path winds harmoniously. Cheerfully, I take it. I notice that I am now passing behind the large garden, and once again the scent of flowers rises to my nose, different flowers. But which ones? It actually smells like chrysanthemums. But isn’t it too early in the year for that? No, evidently not. A huge planting of sunny yellow, mustard yellow, lilac, and magenta chrysanthemums shines under the blue sky. Impressive!
Now the path moves away from the garden and winds down through meadows into the valley. The chrysanthemum scent accompanies me for a long time, but I also notice that it is getting increasingly damp down here. I look at my watch: How quickly time passes! I have already been walking for almost an hour.
Around me, it is becoming more and more marshy. On the right and left, I see the typical brown pom-poms of the cattails, and in other places, yellow water lilies are even blooming. Again, a scent of transience rises to my nose, but this time it is different: It is the typical smell of a marshy lake, not earthy-musty or really rotten, but rather that of water plants in predominantly still freshwater.
The sun is now high. I am glad about that. In the evening, there will surely be mosquitoes here.
I take out the sunscreen and apply it to my bare arms and shoulders. I use a different sunscreen for my face. I drink some water and settle down by the lake. It is deserted. From afar, I hear the soft and gentle splashing of a tributary or small stream. Occasionally, something splashes into the water. Are those frogs? I see nothing. It rustles. Small creatures go about their ways again, after I remain so still as if I am no longer there and a gentle breeze brushes my skin. I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander.
Now I have been away for several hours. Not much longer, and I will become hungry. So I decide to turn back. Now it goes slightly uphill. However, I spontaneously take a different path than the way I came. It does not lead me past the garden again, but makes a large loop to arrive back on the other side of the guesthouse. For a long time, I still have the scent of the freshwater and the flora by the pond in my nose, with a hint of my sunscreen.
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Top Notes
Galbanum
Reseda
Heart Notes
Gardenia
Base Notes
Sandalwood
White frankincense


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