August

I get a lot of compliments wearing this one. It opens with a sharp but sweet grapefruit and immediately drys down to a smooth, woody cedar - but with that creamy sandalwood to balance things out. It does conjure the month of August as an olfactory memory in almost a photorealistic way; of warmth radiating out of dry, crackling twigs and woods under your toes on a late summer hike; of citrus-vanilla creamsicle melting on your chin in the summer sun; of something airy-almost ethereal; like the feeling you get when you gaze at the deep blue August sky and cogitate the puffy, high pressure thunderheads forming and rising dramatically in the horizon like wise sages looking down at us tiny mortals, vulnerable and prostrate on the sand. If these feelings at all chime of something familiar and sounds like an olfactory memory to delve into, delve not in summer, but in the dredge of the dead of winter - when you need that photorealistic memory that the sun will shine soon and that it will be summer again.