Verbeene

Chandelier, dark red velvet, powdery dusty
In the cushions expectantly, passionately a young opera-goer:
Her skin breathes peach and rose scent, the delicate leather gloves lie on the box railing before her.
It gets dark in the hall.... great voices, great emotions, a hint of affectation in the performance, echoes of true longing. in the music, foreign worlds ... everything flows through her in the safe embrace of the opera box.
And tomorrow morning, when she awakens from sound-filled dreams, she believes she knows passion.... and yet only knows its distant scent....

on the surface seemingly leather: beneath it shimmer and sparkle tobacco, fruity-fleshy citrus, dark gold-spicy light. It blows transparent and iridescent - sometimes flower, sometimes earth, sometimes coffee.... a small dissonance maintains the tension between light and dark, between sour-fresh and earthy.
never loud
demands attention....

... still has the scent of polish: fine citrus freshness combined with oily warm woodiness. You smell it while you play - awake and familiar.

And its sound: still a bit nasal - in this bright blur a slight stiffness. However, the lower strings produce a wide, warm, unpretentious sound.
it will never be as radiant as the violin - never as lushly expansive as a cello -

it remains a bit more modest, warm-hearted, and soft.
Thus, this scent perfectly reflects the character of the instrument: unpretentious, fresh, woody-warm,
limited, moderate, and adaptable.

.. it blows clear, green-blue sparkling, fresh as morning, deeply clean
Herbs and flowers are still sleeping in this breeze...
they line the path to the forest

here - in the dense pine grove, the water wind takes root and gains structure.

in the midday heat, the straw flowers will send their unsentimental, harsh, mysterious scent veils over the land....

Imagine, she burst out: I want to open a store of dreams!
I’ll start with the flower department.
You walk in - it’s cool, a gentle breeze blows.
You stop at fresh, dark soil and see leaf tips sprouting. Green, delicate, lightly herbaceous..... tips, you see no flowers...
And then suddenly, like a breaking sunbeam, a floral breeze wafts over you: Neroli.
It lays itself smiling over the leaf buds.
You begin to dream of the flowers.... you see them in your mind's eye.....

and you buy the pot with leaf tips in dark soil....


At the checkout sits a white-haired, kind woman and casually asks: have you been to our department: Courage and Life?