CB I Hate Perfume: Burning Leaves
Autumnal Magic
by Michael W. Davis
I own many fragrances, but none as powerfully evocative as Burning Leaves by Christopher Brosius. We all have our Proustian moments and for me, this fragrance is my 'Madeleine'; immediately transporting me through time in my youth when I could still be awed by autumn's splendor.
A sweet maple undercurrent carries the opening smoke accord so well its as if it's holding the smoke by the hand and gently pulling it along for the ride. The base smells of dry dirty leaves left unburned.
Burning Leaves conjures so many vivid memories of fall seasons past that it's almost overwhelming, awarm comforting nostalgia.The promise of harvest and of a slow descent into winter. The scent and feel of the air changes, becoming slightly cooler and smelling of fires made by neighbors burning fallen leaves and branches. Evening brings smoke from chimneys as the first fires of the season were lit.
Waking up in the early morning hours to close the window because of the cool night air coming in through the screen. Breathing the smoke-tinged cool air as I shivered, closed the window, then returned to bed.
My friends and I raking leaves with our sole goal of creating the biggest pile of leaves possible so we make repeated running dives into the pile and roll around in it until we smelled of dirt and dead leaves. Playing pick-up football games in a friend's front yard until it was dark and we were all late for dinner.
I can still hear mom calling me home.
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