Top Notes 
Melon
Neroli
Pittosporum
Heart Notes 
Oakmoss
Iris
Jasmine
Rose
Sandalwood
Base Notes 
Ambergris
Musk
Vanilla07/12/2025
Skydiver19
41 Reviews
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Skydiver19
Very helpful Review
15
the --- of all people
or the wise whisper of the storm.
I'm surprised myself that I could write a review for this fragrance, which I only rated moderately, and get deeply involved with it. Pass the buck, I didn't want to! But the tiny little corner of me that was reflected in it felt diffusely addressed by it. So I let it have its way and let it guide me to understand what it's all about.
"Please find a firm grip before opening the bottle!" - should be a warning on the outer packaging. We are standing on a cliff on the turbulent North Sea in the far north. An unleashed storm sweeps around my ears with the first scent breeze, briefly taking my breath away. Okay, I'm still standing, everything's fine - until the melon spray threatens to wash away my perception like a freak wave. Restart your senses and continue your Nordic fragrance adventure. Yes, you can really call it that, the fragrance is experimental.
When the cold of the spray subsides, its roar calms down, the muted breath of flowers wafts around me from inland, from where the mild early summer sun has laboriously warmed the barren ground. Soft and timid, these aromas struggling through gusts of wind herald strong fragrances. Of vertitable fragrance divas that are more like a memory than a real impression in the constant coastal wind.
As soon as they are perceived, they are gone again, taken away once more by a stiff, cold breeze. What remains is a warming feeling, an idea of ... there they are again, the fine flower ladies in their noble scented robes, which seem rather tattered under these harsh circumstances, almost small and shy. The wind takes it all, the flowers standing small ...---
... Yes, the eternal wind can sing. Softly and gently it has often sung me to sleep. I have found support and comfort in his lap to this day. A faithful friend, my wind. How often, over the decades, have I wished for wings so that I could dance with him until nothing separated us. To go on long journeys with him, even though I had long since arrived, which of course I didn't know. I wished to be at the center of his elements, to ascend to unknown heights as a small white cloud that lets itself be carried by him. Until, with its dissolution, it becomes part of a greater whole. ---
Oh, my beloved little white cloud of longing, there you are again! How much I have missed you ...
Back to the scent. This interplay of gentle blossom warmth from the mainland and cold gusts from the sea continues throughout the entire HN right into the base, gradually becoming weaker in intensity but not varying noticeably. Until the winds calm down in the evening, keep quiet and gather strength for the next day.
This is the time when the pulse of life from the mainland becomes perceptible again. Woods give us their warm breath, lovely vanilla earth, adorned with musk, their sensuality. The animalistic ambergris only appears late at night. The emission of these notes is only moderate, the earth cools down quite quickly.
_______
Personal addendum: Although this perfume is less of a wearable fragrance for me, it had quietly spoken to me in some unknown inner corner. And it was the unloved synthetic aqua notes, of all things, which had strained and almost overridden my outer senses, which played an important part in deciphering this 'little corner'.
I didn't resist the 'screeching of the calons', but intuitively went along with what was happening. And it was precisely thanks to the blocked outer senses that inner movements found their way into my consciousness. This enabled me to rediscover the deep meaning of an old longing that had slipped into the unconscious. The recently practiced air sports - either in free fall or motorless with wings - had already begun this search, unconsciously. My gaze kept returning to the clouds up there, which I wanted so much to get closer to. And I didn't find this little white cloud of longing in the sky as I had expected. Deep inside me, it was waiting to be found. And it is thanks to the little-loved scent with its overly loud components that the little wanderer between the worlds has become a conscious part of me again. That is a great stroke of luck. And a reconciliation with the fact that I had to give up air sports post-Covid.
The meaning of my external search has come full circle. And just as the storm on the coast calms down gently in the evening, my inner drive has also come to rest.
Everything that touches us wants to be seen, wants to reveal its secret to us. Everything is a parable...
I'm surprised myself that I could write a review for this fragrance, which I only rated moderately, and get deeply involved with it. Pass the buck, I didn't want to! But the tiny little corner of me that was reflected in it felt diffusely addressed by it. So I let it have its way and let it guide me to understand what it's all about.
"Please find a firm grip before opening the bottle!" - should be a warning on the outer packaging. We are standing on a cliff on the turbulent North Sea in the far north. An unleashed storm sweeps around my ears with the first scent breeze, briefly taking my breath away. Okay, I'm still standing, everything's fine - until the melon spray threatens to wash away my perception like a freak wave. Restart your senses and continue your Nordic fragrance adventure. Yes, you can really call it that, the fragrance is experimental.
When the cold of the spray subsides, its roar calms down, the muted breath of flowers wafts around me from inland, from where the mild early summer sun has laboriously warmed the barren ground. Soft and timid, these aromas struggling through gusts of wind herald strong fragrances. Of vertitable fragrance divas that are more like a memory than a real impression in the constant coastal wind.
As soon as they are perceived, they are gone again, taken away once more by a stiff, cold breeze. What remains is a warming feeling, an idea of ... there they are again, the fine flower ladies in their noble scented robes, which seem rather tattered under these harsh circumstances, almost small and shy. The wind takes it all, the flowers standing small ...---
... Yes, the eternal wind can sing. Softly and gently it has often sung me to sleep. I have found support and comfort in his lap to this day. A faithful friend, my wind. How often, over the decades, have I wished for wings so that I could dance with him until nothing separated us. To go on long journeys with him, even though I had long since arrived, which of course I didn't know. I wished to be at the center of his elements, to ascend to unknown heights as a small white cloud that lets itself be carried by him. Until, with its dissolution, it becomes part of a greater whole. ---
Oh, my beloved little white cloud of longing, there you are again! How much I have missed you ...
Back to the scent. This interplay of gentle blossom warmth from the mainland and cold gusts from the sea continues throughout the entire HN right into the base, gradually becoming weaker in intensity but not varying noticeably. Until the winds calm down in the evening, keep quiet and gather strength for the next day.
This is the time when the pulse of life from the mainland becomes perceptible again. Woods give us their warm breath, lovely vanilla earth, adorned with musk, their sensuality. The animalistic ambergris only appears late at night. The emission of these notes is only moderate, the earth cools down quite quickly.
_______
Personal addendum: Although this perfume is less of a wearable fragrance for me, it had quietly spoken to me in some unknown inner corner. And it was the unloved synthetic aqua notes, of all things, which had strained and almost overridden my outer senses, which played an important part in deciphering this 'little corner'.
I didn't resist the 'screeching of the calons', but intuitively went along with what was happening. And it was precisely thanks to the blocked outer senses that inner movements found their way into my consciousness. This enabled me to rediscover the deep meaning of an old longing that had slipped into the unconscious. The recently practiced air sports - either in free fall or motorless with wings - had already begun this search, unconsciously. My gaze kept returning to the clouds up there, which I wanted so much to get closer to. And I didn't find this little white cloud of longing in the sky as I had expected. Deep inside me, it was waiting to be found. And it is thanks to the little-loved scent with its overly loud components that the little wanderer between the worlds has become a conscious part of me again. That is a great stroke of luck. And a reconciliation with the fact that I had to give up air sports post-Covid.
The meaning of my external search has come full circle. And just as the storm on the coast calms down gently in the evening, my inner drive has also come to rest.
Everything that touches us wants to be seen, wants to reveal its secret to us. Everything is a parable...
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