Oud Extraordinaire Ensar Oud

that ouds smell like wood.
They all claim that, all the time. Especially with 1001 mainstream "oud" fragrances (which usually also have "oud" in the name) (and never smell like oud).

No, they generally do not.
They smell fruity (especially those from Ensar Oud very often and a lot), mostly darker.
And, let’s not beat around the bush, they smell like a stable and mountain meadow, in other words: like cow dung.
And strong, and like a sheikh.
Sometimes they smell cheesy.
They are rough and smoky.
Sometimes they carry a little flower.
And they make all sorts of delightful yet challenging capers.

However, this one does indeed smell like wood.
Very basic, very straight, without any fuss, wood.
It spreads like melting honey, from the almost resinous dark oil.
And I am delighted. For years I have been searching for the perfect forest scent; God, what have I tried.
No, no, this one is not it either. No.
It lacks the ethereal, the water droplet, the finest green, the little splash of bright red, the dry lichen, the mystery, the forest, the forest. (Even more: mountain forest*!)
[*Whoever finds me the scent shall be praised for all eternity!]
But: The wood. That’s what it is. The Extrapordinaire. Silly name actually. Because that’s exactly what it is not, the Ex…, the wooden one. It’s woody. The simple guy. Organic. Unadulterated. Thai oud. Rayong.

Injured tree, resinous wound. Created by mold to drive away pests. And to attract heart- and hormone-driven beings.

Then, at some point in the thicket, a sequence floats by. which I actually cannot describe at all. For a short while, believe me or not, it smells like: planet. Yes. Planet. No, not earth, not metal, not not, just … like planet.
You will understand, I am in love.

whoosh. A little flower… A tiny mint leaf… A tea… whoosh
The mystery is followed by what must follow with Ensar Oud: fruit.
Meh.
Yawn.
Yayaya.
And slowly my current darling is sliding into insignificance.

But then, oh my love, it sends out once more a little wonder from afar (where a properly adored lover belongs).
It makes itself unforgettable with a nameless scent that rises deep deep deep into the nose, no, into the brain. Maybe. A little. Weihr… No. Mystery. Deep shit.

Love you with the brain but my heart