Cold stars gaze down from behind an ancient moon, glittering within an endless black sky. The cold sighs across bracken and moss and needle as gold filters through fog rolling in from the Pacific, an awakening as ageless as the world.
A spirit belonging to a specific place is known as the genius loci. The towering redwoods remember its name.
Notes: bergamot, fir, fog, pine, juniper, wormwood, mint, cypress, honeysuckle, smoke, tree moss, amber, roasted marshmallows