There is, in my childhood memories of Haute-Savoie, a forest that stays with me still. Each autumn it returns, like a symphony of scent and taste. The air is crisp, almost metallic; a sharp coolness that catches at the nose and feels like breathing the mountains in deeply. Beneath each step, the ground yields to humus and brown leaves (beech, oak) exhaling that bittersweet fragrance, sweet as a hidden fermentation.
Farther on, a spruce rises, immense, its crown seeming to brush the sky. Its needles release a green aroma; resinous, camphorated, at times even peppery. At its base, moss and lichen cling to the trunk as to the damp rocks nearby, and the forest exhales a mineral freshness, almost austere.
With each step, the eye lingers on autumn’s treasures: porcini, chanterelles, milk caps. Their perfume is dense, humid, sometimes creamy, sometimes almost chocolate-like. Not far away, the orchards too share their riches: the crisp bite of apples, the juiciness of pears, the deep flesh of plums, clusters of grapes heavy with sugar. And at the forest’s edge, the fruits one gathers or cracks open: roasted chestnuts, fresh hazelnuts, walnuts with their faint bitterness. Scents and flavors interwoven with the very breath of the mountain.
The storm of the night has left its trace: fallen branches, split trunks, damp wood that cracks underfoot and suddenly releases a fibrous scent, drier than the earth. And then, on a sudden breeze, the air carries a dry whiff of smoke, a trace of burnt wood. It mingles with the purity of the mountain air, a discreet reminder that warmth awaits at home below, just as the sun begins to fade and night quietly descends.
This autumn, I longed to recapture the exact scent of those childhood memories: the damp earth, the crisp apple, the roasted chestnut, the spruce that touched the sky. These are the impressions I sought in my selection of perfumes. I hope they may, as they do for me, open a secret door into a forest, a season, or perhaps an almost-forgotten moment.
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- Astier de Villatte Ambre Liquide – Golden and enveloping, like the hearth after a cold walk. Smoke, resin, and warmth that cling gently, as if carried home in a wool coat.
- L’Artisan Parfumeur Il Était Un Bois – Soft woods and resin, fibrous and warm. It is the sound of branches cracking underfoot, fallen in the night storm, releasing their hidden life.
- Diptyque Vetyverio Eau de Parfum – Rooted and elegant, softened by a light brightness. It is the earth beneath the grass, the cool breath of soil that steadies the air of the mountains.
- Essential Parfums Bois Impérial – Green, peppered, luminous. It recalls spruce needles crushed between the fingers: sharp, mineral, alive with mountain air.
- Oriza L. Legrand Chypre-Mousse – Moss, humus, and hidden mushrooms. It is the secret heart of the forest: humid, shaded, mysterious, where the earth breathes in silence.
- Diptyque Tam Dao – Smooth sandalwood wrapped in cedar, serene and resinous. It is the calm of towering trunks and evergreen needles, a walk in silence among ancient trees.
- Chanel Sycomore – Smoky vetiver, like damp roots still breathing after the rain. It recalls the forest floor at dusk, with a quiet ember of firewood glowing in the distance.
- Trudon Deux – Green foliage and pine resin brightened with herbs. The scent of a forest at sunrise, mist rising from the ground, everything renewed and trembling with life.
- Jovoy Fire at Will – Warm vanilla and golden mimosa, like roasted chestnuts and sugared walnuts gathered at the edge of the forest. A memory of orchard sweetness.
- MDCI Les Indes Galantes – Spiced woods and balsamic richness. It recalls the abundance of autumn markets: fruits, nuts, and exotic whispers carried into the Alpine valleys.
