Nightchild

"When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day leads you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all." —Hermann Hesse, Bäume: Betrachtungen und Gedichte Among the holiest of places for me is among the tall trees in a New England forest. My earliest memories are of having a backyard that poured out right into the woods. There is no greater blessing that I could have had as a child; the ultimate stimulus for imagination was there for a spongy and eager mind. Among the discoveries were the many rocks to turn over to examine scurrying terrestrial organisms, Caesar mushroom buttons that looked like Halloween eggs, ghost pipes that seemed like something out of a fairytale. These woods could feel enchanted as the summer sunlight filtered through the towering pines, or haunted under ochre moons on cool autumn nights. Over my lifetime, my relationship with forests was fortified, and at middle age, I seek their counsel when the most challenging spiritual questions are faced. Nightchild so closely approaches the metaphor of the forest that I hoped to find through scent. Others have approximated it, but Michael Nordstrand has expressed the genius loci of the woods: the ineffable, musty, stark aroma of organisms at all stages of transmutation. It's vaguely green, earthy, and smoky all at once. I smell what reminds me of the balsam-like aroma of crushed asters (a chrysanthemum note is listed) and the fresh, tacky resin of conifers. I smell moss—no, not necessarily oakmoss—but the damp clumps of flowerless plants, bryophytes, that inhabit the forest floor. A current of unctuous, musky bittersweetness, as if from aromatic roots, meets the lemon-pine-pepper incense haze of olibanum. This is where I find Nightchild to feel most devotional. It invites me to slow down, to be deliberate—and notice as it takes shape. It's a meditation at nightfall, with the only light coming from the cobalt sky and burning embers.

The notes are very similar to Dryad by Papillon on the more herbal notes, they at least for me have a parallel on some degree, where that reminds me of standing in a dry dying meadow with withering flowers and herbs, with an orchard nearby and wooded area on the other side, in the day you are feasting and drinking and the season is changing Epichron Is when you go into those woods at night, on a solstice and the bonfire burning, and ritual is taking place, people are dancing deep into the woods and the forest is embracing you. There is magic in the air, it's incense, and smoke, the crush of the leaves and the damp in the dark, branches grabbing at your clothes and you never know what you may find in it. I've been on the hunt for a forest scent, and nothing else has come close to this feeling. This is definitely worth a full bottle. Edit: I got my full bottle, and it's everything I ever wanted in a green magical woody, incense scent. I absolutely love it. The atomizer is the finest mist. No notes.

Honestly, I loved this a few months ago after searching for an enchanting forest scent, got a sample, broke my sample bottle, ordered a replacement, and now after spending more time with it, my nose for it has definitely changed. It now weighs a bit too dense and overpowering, incense and resin-heavy with primarily frankincense, amber (that I can almost taste in the back of my throat), and a bit of a powdery note at the dry down rather than the overall wetter, greener, and earthlier aromatics that I was hoping for. Kinda reminiscent of a 90's men's cologne. Not that I don't appreciate the spell, just that it's not quite my enchanting forest.

It really is a lovely, unisex-though-masc-leaning scent. Despite all the resins, woods, and smoke, I feel like this scent is actually cool instead of warm. If any of y’all enjoy camping you’ll recognize the smell of burnt pine or cedar, what the reviewer below described as sour. It reminds me a lot of Mississippi Medicine, but more unisex, which is great for me because Mississippi Medicine is just a little too masculine for me. Considering a full bottle!

I like this. It has a deep, grounding scent, and I can pick up hints of oud and frankincense, which surprised me because oud isn’t even listed in the notes. It’s pretty similar to Guerlain Oud Essentiel, but honestly, I think I prefer this one. Despite that dark, woody profile, it never turns harsh or overly synthetic, and it doesn’t become headache-inducing either, which I really appreciate because Guerlain Oud Essentiel tends to do that to me.