by Mad et Len
Dusk under a wild fig tree, its gnarled, cable-like roots lying on the shore of a clean lake. Green, milky tones buzz in the lightly humid air against a splendid and unencumbered sunset. We are reminded that the true beauty of the fig tree comes not from the sticky-sweet fruit alone, but from its place within the entirely of the tree, and in turn, the tree's place within the world that surrounds and shelters it.
Cool, creamy sandalwood with a velvety, green fig. Woody yet fresh.