Bitter orange – woods – myrrh
It was warm in the freshly harvested wheat field, which seemed to stretch endlessly to the horizon, as infinite as the sea. A path amid burnt grass and the song of cicadas: a hymn to the stifling heat. In the absolute silence of the air, as the blue slowly approached, the scent of citrus plantations spread more and more, an everlasting garden, a temple.
More precisely, orange blossom is a classic in perfumery. We are accompanied by the image of singing crickets and the hot air mingling with a breeze of fragrant citrus trees.
